


The Indomitable Pale Spider

by BoredWriter1414



Category: Marvel (Comics), Persona 5, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Metaverse (Persona 5), Crossover, Dark, F/F, F/M, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Vigilantism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-17 16:21:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 32,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28602852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoredWriter1414/pseuds/BoredWriter1414
Summary: Kurokuya Kouzai. Born with a traumatizing power and being convicted of a crime he didn't commit, he is sent to Shujin Academy under probation. Little do the people of Tokyo know, he masquerades as the masked vigilante, The Pale Spider. Unfortunately for him, Kurokuya is soon to learn that being a hero in a corrupt city is not as simple as it first seemed.
Kudos: 1





	1. New Place, Same Problems

"Normal speech."

'Thoughts.'

**"Voice synthesizer."**

_**Sounds from enhanced senses.** _

* * *

** 4/9 Afternoon **

* * *

_**A man; fifty years, running, trying to catch the train. Heart racing, overweight, sweating heavily. Early signs of heart disease appearing.** _

_**A girl; seventeen, panting, heart rate accelerating. Rubber snapping, skin being pierced, drugs entering the blood stream. Likely to overdose.** _

I make a note in my head, reminding me to use a phone booth to call an ambulance. Focusing my senses on the area that girl is in, I mark the location.

_**Shearing metal, breaking glass, head hits the dashboard. Not wearing a seatbelt. Dead on impact.** _

My body involuntarily seizes up at the sound of a car crash that's miles away. My breath hitches in my throat, coming out as a choked whimper. The elderly man across from me on the train looks up in curiosity, before looking back down at his newspaper.

"Kids," he mutters derisively under his breath, yet I hear with perfect clarity.

"A vigilante? In Tokyo?" My attention is grabbed by the voice of a girl in the same car as me, standing a few feet away. I look over and recognize the uniform she's wearing as my own. A fellow classmate to my new school.

"Yeah, I heard it over the news. Apparently, someone has been going around attacking criminals, dressed up in a white outfit with a black spider symbol." The girls' friend answers. "They stopped a mugger just a few nights ago."

I remember that event. It was one of my slower evenings.

"Oh, that guy! Yeah, I've seen some videos of him, but only when he's swinging around at night."

"Some stations have even reported him helping people, like, not when they're in danger, but just generally. Bringing groceries up, stopping car accidents, that sort of stuff."

I remember those events as well. The mention of the accidents I've helped stop cause me to involuntarily shiver.

"Well, even so, that's good. With all that's been going on in the news, Tokyo could use some of its own superheroes."

"Maybe, but with that Stamford incident in America, you think that's such a good thing?" The friend asks, and my thoughts darken at the mention of that disaster.

 _ **"I told you, it's none of your damn business!"**_ My attention is torn away by the shout of an irate man yelling in his phone a couple train cars down from mine. Two cars precisely, yet I hear him just fine, even over the conversation next to me.

 _ **"In other news, today a man was found murdered in his apartment in Shinjuku. While the cause of death has yet to be identified, the police have issued a warning to all citizens to stay alert and to not go out at night..."**_ A news station playing on one of the large televisions the train passes drones on, and even as I get further from it, I still manage to hear it.

 _ **A man; on the ground, writhing in pain. Multiple blows coming down on him. "I told you to pay up two fucking days ago!"**_ One of the assaulters' yell. Two kilometers away, and yet I hear it.

 _ **A boy; curled up in his room, crying. Parents are yelling in the next room.**_ And I hear it.

 _ **"Tell him that he should start dealing with his own problems, because trust me when I say that he doesn't want me to clean up his messes for him."**_ A phone conversation. Fifteen kilometers away, and I hear it.

 _ **A sharp smack across a woman's cheek. She drops to the floor, tears in her eyes. Her husband yells at her, blaming her for everything.**_ Thirty-three kilometers away, and yet I hear it.

 _ **A woman; moaning, crying, wheezing.**_ I hear it.

 _ **"I want a-"**_ I hear it.

 _ **A woman; elderly, weak breaths. Heart will-**_ I hear it.

_**A baby; crying. It's hungry. Mother is in the same room, despondent, depressed. Won't get up.** _

_**"Honestly, I'm getting-"** _

The train I'm on stops. Without needing to hear the announcement telling me that I've arrived at my destination, I grab my school bag and exit onto the platform. The blaring of various conversations, phones buzzing, and train horns sounding off is like some mad chorus, constantly accompanying me. The cotton shirt of the school uniform feels like asphalt as it brushes against my skin with every step. I shove my hands into my pockets in an attempt to make limit as much of my movement as possible, to try and lessen the suffocating atmosphere that's followed me my entire life. It doesn't work.

I walk outside the station, trading one cacophony for another.

_**"Fuck you! You piece of-"** _

I enter Shibuya Crossing. There're so many people around that, were I younger, I would have been overwhelmed by the rush of stimulus. Thankfully, I had time and patience on my side, so despite it looking like everyone was moving around in a blur, I can make out every piece of it. Stopping for a moment, I take a second to adjust to the new rush of information. The buildings _**-cold steel foundation, fragile, needs repair-**_ towering over everyone, the smell of the streets _**-discarded drugs, filth accumulating, vomit, sweat, fluids-**_ entrenching itself in my nose.

_**A car; engine stutters-** _

The warm air brushing past me, feeling like an ever present, inescapable weight.

_**A baby; crying. It's hungry.** _

And the people. All around me. All talking.

_**A child; crying. They're scared.** _

All screaming.

_**A city. Screaming.** _

I hear everything.

 _'The girl from earlier,'_ I remind myself. I manage to find a phone booth and call an ambulance. After waiting a few minutes, listening in on the area I sensed her, the ambulance arrives. The girl had long since passed out, but the paramedics quickly resuscitate her. They then take her to the hospital for observation.

I stop listening. I continue onwards to my destination. A bitter thought appears in my mind.

 _'It's not enough.'_ The idea silently echoes in my head, and just as silently leaves.

My eyes narrow, and I quicken my pace.

* * *

** 4/9 Early Evening **

* * *

Yongen-jaya. The streets feel forgotten and abandoned, with plants growing through the various cracks in the sidewalks and roads. Multiple storefronts are closed and shuttered up. The few people I walk past mind their business, only giving me the faintest of nods as I walk past. I return them, going further into the unfamiliar neighborhood.

A medical clinic with an odd neon sign featuring a stuffed bear with needles. An out of commission movie theatre. A simple convenience store. Small, single room apartment buildings. The area has an atmosphere of a place that the world simply moves on around it, yet Yongen-jaya remains the same. Untouched, unknown.

My temporary 'home,' that I will be living in for a year.

Deeper in is my destination. A café called Leblanc. I smell the various beans and grinded down coffee far before I set foot in front of the store, and I use it to help guide my way to its doors. It is the place of work for the man who will act as my probation officer.

Sojiro Sakura. The name is unfamiliar to me. The reason he accepted me, I don't know. He's a stranger, yet he agreed to look after me.

I guess I'll find out why soon enough.

The café is now before me, and just like the rest of Yongen-jaya, it has the appearance of a place that's been left alone by the world. Swallowed up by the urban jungle of Tokyo.

'Sojiro Sakura.' I test the name in my mind, and it still feels just as foreign as before. He isn't family. He isn't a friend. I didn't question the decision when it was presented to me, and despite myself, I still don't question it now. This has all been arranged, so there would be no point in doing so.

Steeling myself, I grab the handle and pull the door open. The smell of coffee that I sensed further away from the store now hits my nostrils in full force. My nose scrunches up, but soon grows accustomed to the overwhelming aroma of fresh caffeine. My eyes take a moment to adjust to the dimmer lights of the café, a slight pressure being relieved as they do. After a few moments, I can clearly see the domestic indoors of the place, and an odd sense of calm passes over me.

I survey the line of booths on my left, and the shelves of jars holding coffee beans on the right. A bar with stools goes deeper into the place, with a kitchen tucked away in the corner. A television plays, various news stories being relayed.

A man sits on the second to last stool, a newspaper and pencil in hand. He wears a pink shirt under a black apron, his equally black hair receding into a fine widow's peak and a goatee to match. At the sound of my entering, he looks up at me from above his glasses, his face conveying nothing short of boredom.

We regard each other for a small moment, saying nothing. I look at him, trying to decide what I should say. After a while, the man lets out a tired sigh and sets down the newspaper he was holding and says, "I take it you're Kurokuya Kouzai?"

"... I am." I answer, my voice sounding quiet in the already quiet café. It was weak, raw, and for a moment, I didn't even recognize it as my own. The man seemed to hear it fine enough though.

"I'm Sojiro Sakura. Come with me." He gets up and jerks his head towards the stairs at the very back. I follow him, but before I do so, I notice a fine, course smell and odor at the top of the steps. The further I walk, the worse gets. Halfway up the steps, the smell gets worse, as if it's crawling around and scraping inside my throat and nose. At reaching the top of the stairs I can easily see why.

To say the room was messy would be... an accurate assessment. There is a thick layer of dust covering everything in the room, accompanied by small cobwebs. A mess of strewn about books, forgotten tools, bags, and boxes lay about on the floor and on tabletops, shelves, and a couch that likely hasn't been used in years. A bed sits in the far corner of the room, underneath a large window.

_**Dust everywhere, clawing at my eyes, coating my-** _

I steel myself and try my best not to take deep breaths. Or any sort of breath, for that matter. Simply standing here is causing my senses to protest every gulp of 'air,' and I feel the familiar signs of a headache and sore throat forming.

"This is where you'll be staying," Sojiro Sakura says from beside me, not taking notice of my discomfort. "Ground rules," I look at him as he continues on. "First, if you cause any trouble, I won't hesitate to kick you out." He actually sounds stern when he says this, a clear difference from his earlier indifference. "Second, I don't want to hear about your situation. I already got the gist of it. A man was forcing himself on a woman, and you stepped in. He got hurt, then sued you."

The callous way he talks about my circumstances causes me to actually bristle slightly in shock. I look at Sojiro Sakura in confusion, not understanding how he could talk about something like that so matter-of-factly. As if it was some uninteresting news article.

A small grin forms on his face when he notices my reaction, "That's life kid. Better get used to it."

My hands clench, nails digging into my skin. My eyes narrow in resentment. 'Better get used to it?' I play the sentence back, not being able to process how he could say it so easily. Sojiro Sakura looks at me, expecting some sort of reply. I give him none.

He lets out a frustrated breath and begins to lay out more ground rules, all of them along the lines of 'Don't bother the customers,' or 'Don't steal anything.' The man leaves, not even offering a handshake or a nod.

I stand still for a good few seconds, taking in my new environment. 'This place...' my thoughts begin, 'is not home.' My thoughts finish, as if that fact needed to be made clear to myself. 'I don't have a home. Not anymore.'

… Ignoring that thought, I set my bag down on the cleanest area I can find, take off my school jacket and roll up my sleeves, and begin to clean my 'room.'

* * *

** 4/9 Evening **

* * *

Hours pass by, and by the time evening falls, I've managed to get the room tidied up to an... acceptable degree. There are still some areas with dust coating the ceiling and shelves, and I didn't have anything to take the various amounts of garbage downstairs and into a dumpster, so I had no choice but to organize it onto a pile for later. My 'room' was now, for the most part, livable for me at least.

I hear Sakura come up the stairs and look towards him just as he clears the last steps. He's now wearing a white jacket and matching fedora, apparently ready to close up. He looks around, his eyes widening in surprise. "Whoa. You managed to get a lot done." He actually sounds somewhat impressed, and gives the room an appreciative look.

I look around, surveying my work. "It wasn't much." True, I'd cleaned the floor, most of the tabletops, the shelves, and organized the mess of items to the point that the attic hardly seemed as if it was dirty to begin with, but there was still a lot that needed to be done. He looks at me, as if I'd said something strange, but his face quickly dropped back into his uncaring visage.

"We'll be heading over to Shujin Academy tomorrow. You'll be introduced to the principal and then we'll be out, got it?" I nod. "Just keep it simple." He turns to leave.

"Sir." I speak up, stopping him. Sakura stops and looks at me, slightly annoyed. My throat tightens. From what little time I've spent with Sojiro Sakura, he didn't strike me as the kind of man I would get along with. He was callous, and the way he spoke of the incident leading me into this situation did not sit well with me.

Even so, he still agreed to take me in. That had to count for something, and as such I needed to be polite. "... Thank you." I say after a moment. My voice still sounds strange to me. "For taking me in." I finish. Sojiro Sakura regards me, and then continues downstairs.

"Don't mention it. I'm heading home. Don't steal anything." He says back, still in that disinterested tone.

He exits my view, and I take the moment to sit down on the bed in the room, letting out a breath that I had been holding in for a long while. The cleaning process was painful due to the amount of dust and particulates in the air scratching at me, and I felt like I was still covered head to toe in a grimy layer in it. I wipe at a bit of sweat on my brow, and give the place a once over. Bits of moonlight glint into the attic, giving the dead room some semblance of life. Even so, it still looked like nothing more than a forgotten part of this building. An insignificant piece, not worth remembering.

I felt a strange sense of camaraderie at the thought.

'None of that matters now though,' I think to myself, my eyes narrowing in focus at one of the boxes that laid near the entrance of the attic. 'Belongings' was labeled across its surface. I got up and walked towards it, a purposeful stride in my steps.

 _ **"Yeah, he got here this afternoon. Trains must have been early."**_ I stop for a moment, hearing Sakura talking on the phone with perfect clarity downstairs. I chastise myself for my eagerness. I should have waited for Sakura to leave, and-

 _ **"How was he?"**_ At hearing the other voice on the phone, I freeze. My throat seizes, causing me to choke up. _**"When he got to the shop?"**_ My chest tightens, my breath comes out in quick gasps.

 _ **"I don't know, seemed kind of... tired, I guess. Kid's hard to read."**_ Sakura answers. I drop down behind the divider that covers the stairwell, as if to hide from something. I feel myself sweating, my eyes start to go blurry.

 _'Please,' I beg, 'just go.'_ I bring my hands up to cover my ears, thinking that it will stop me from hearing the conversation. I know it won't.

 _ **"Do you want to talk to him?"**_ The innocent question Sakura asks causes me to stop breathing for several long seconds. A cold pause breaks out in the store, and it feels as if my heart has stopped. _**"He's just upstairs, I can go and-"**_

 _ **"No."**_ The woman answers quickly, sounding choked up. _**"He needs to rest."**_ I let out the breath I had been holding, and it comes out like a stuttering cry. The rest of the conversation goes by, and then Sakura leaves the store and locks up. I sit there for a few more moments, calming myself down from that episode. The voice of the woman echoes in my head, taunting me.

 _'Why?'_ My thoughts cry out. _'Why won't you just go?'_

A few more minutes pass by with me sitting there, doing nothing. I lightly hit the back of my head against the divider, a dull thud ringing out, and eventually calm down enough to get back up and open the box. Sifting through the various clothes and small trinkets, I finally grab the bag that holds my ensemble. I move back to the bed, open the bag, and lay out its contents on the bed sheets. For a moment, I stand there and regard my costume with a critical eye.

It was a wholly white outfit, with only a few scant black accents. The mask, comprised of two pieces; a black mouth mask with a built-in synthesizer to warp my voice that wrapped around my neck, and the white mask which went over that and covered my face. Two sharp, white eyes glared out at me, characterized by black lines going out from the top of the eyes and similar lines going down form the inner part of both eyes, giving the appearance of fangs. Pure white pants and matching combat boots sit on the edge of the bed. A black undershirt with a pair of matching black gloves was complemented by a white overshirt, and on the front and back was my emblem.

A black spider stared up at me, its small, angular head complemented by two thin, angry eyes. Two legs came from the bottom, twisting to the side before coming downwards and then parting where the joints would be. Two sets of legs came from the sides of the face, one set going out and pointing downwards, extending past the bottom legs and stopping just before they met each other, and the other two going outwards and then up, the legs extending down the length of the arms until they met the black gloves forming a V down my arms with the matching set of legs on the back. Finally, the last legs went up from the top of the spider's head and extended out to the back along my collarbone, interlocking with a matching emblem on the other side of the shirt.

The final two items are the black utility belt that holds all my web cartridges, plus a variety of simple first aid items and various gadgets, and my web shooters. The black, rectangular cartridges form a solid circle around my wrist, and the firing mechanism fits snuggly into my palm.

I look upon the costume, something of a cold reverence coming over me as I do so. It's as if nothing else is happening in the world right now; no more screaming, no more cacophonous noise. Just me and this mission that I have chosen for myself.

 _'One year on probation, huh?'_ I think back to the night this whole debacle started. The street illuminated by the lights from a police car, the woman looking away in shame, and the glare of the man who started all of this.

 _"Damn brat, I'll sue!"_ His voice rings out in my head. My eyes glower from the memory. The humiliation I felt. The woman lying to the police. The so called 'trail' that took place. And finally, my false conviction.

A small part of me says to stop what I'm doing. That, with my new circumstances, if I get caught wearing a mask and beating people up, regardless if they're criminals, it will only cause more complications for me. For the people closest to-

 _'It doesn't matter,'_ I tell myself, steel determination running through my body. I quickly pull off the rest of my school uniform and put on my suit with a speed that surprises me. Before I put on my mask, I see myself in the window's reflection. Dull, almost empty blue eyes look back at me along with my long dark brown hair that goes just past my neck making a sort of portrait.

 _ **A group of people, screaming. Two teenage girls, three young boys. Being forced into containers.**_ My reflection gives me a cold glare as I narrow my eyes. _'Nothing else matters.'_

Bundling my hair and putting my mask on, my eyes' reflection replaced by sharp white daggers piercing me, I push the window open and dart out onto the neighboring building. The mechanisms in the mask's lenses quickly adjust to allow more light in, the automatic settings I have in place taking over. As soon as I get close to the building, I stop myself from crashing against it, my hands and feet clinging on the sides of the rough concrete with ease. I begin to crawl up the side fervently, eventually breaking into a run. Before I reach the top, I push off the building with a strong jump, quickly shooting out a strand of web on the side. With a sharp pull of my arm, I vault over the stone rail of the building and over its small roof.

I shoot out more strands of web onto opposing buildings and pull. Immediately I'm soaring through the air, the streets of Yongen-jaya illuminating me as I pass them by. I let out a breath, and for a moment, I feel like I'm not being suffocated by this city.

 _ **Steel doors slamming closed, people crying out.**_ Shame I didn't have any time to savor it. Picking up the pace, I start propelling myself forward with greater urgency, shooting out web upon web, then launch myself into the air, hoping to conserve my 'ammunition,' as it were. With my senses, I'm able to plot out the quickest path towards my destination.

Eventually, I reach the source of the screaming. An unused area in the docks of Minato ward. Perching on top of a building, I focus my senses on the area.

 _ **Seven men; lightly armed. Altogether, sans one lookout.**_ Not an issue. However, I can't risk the safety of the hostages. _**A boy, eight; cries out as he's being shoved into a container.**_

_**"Fucking brat. As if screaming's gonna help."** _

_**'Damn.'**_ I clench my hands, crushing the bit of concrete I'm holding onto. Calming myself down, I take stock of the situation. The door hadn't been closed yet, so there was a risk to the victims' safety. Even so, after hearing that exchange, I decide that the time for waiting is **over**.

I take a deep breath, tensing my legs and arms as I get ready to jump from the building. _**Seven men, lightly armed. Stationary; one lookout.**_ I fire into the air, leaving small imprints in the concrete of the roof. I let myself soar through the air and go into a slight dive, waiting until the last second to latch a web on one of the closest buildings in the docks. I let myself reach the end of my arc then push my legs outward, cutting through the air and beginning my fall into the area.

Finally, I land on a container, perching myself across its surface. The metal buckles and breaks under the force of the landing, and the shearing sound echoes across the dock. All of the criminals' present look up at me in surprise _**-three in center, two to the left and one right-**_ , as do the victims. The sight of their scared faces breaks down whatever restraint I had left, and my eyes narrow at the closest target. I jump off the container and finally begin my attack.

"What the f-" My knee connecting to his chest stops him from completing that sentence. He drops to the ground, winded. I land on my feet and roll, then hop onto the one closed door of the container holding the hostages. _**Two center, two right, one left.**_ I see the two other men in the center and to the right are still confused but the man on the left is getting ready for the upcoming fight. I interrupt his process by darting from the door and towards him, grab his shoulders, then vault over him. As I near the ground I easily lift him, then wrest him down into the asphalt shoulders first. The crackle of fracturing bones is heard only by me, but the man's cries are heard by everyone present. _**Men are regrouping; running towards me.**_ Not giving him a chance to recuperate, I grab his leg and throw him into the man that was closest to me. The air leaves his lungs as his partner hits him, and they fall down into a jumbled mess. The three criminals still up reach me; one on the right, one on the left, and the final one coming up behind them.

The man on the right throws a wild haymaker, but before the punch has a chance to land, I twist myself out of his reach, shooting out a quick left jab over his strike and into his nose, crushing it. I follow up by thrashing my right elbow across his face _**-man behind me, about to land a hit-**_ I quickly dodge and duck under the second criminal's punch, bringing my left elbow up his jaw. Both of them fall to the ground, stunned by the force of my blows. I slowly bring my guard down and glare at the last man standing in front of me. He had stopped, shocked at the brutal display of controlled violence and the ease at which I had brought down two hardened criminals. His face betrays how scared he is, despite his best attempts to hide it under a weak glare. From his right, the two men I hit with each other start to recover and eventually limp to his side, as well as the first man I had attacked. He clutches his chest, his breathing ragged-

 _ **Lookout charging behind me, about to tackle.**_ I quickly backflip into the air, the lookout running underneath me. I shoot out two webs onto his shoulders and as I land, I harshly pull back. He slips, and his head hits the ground with a hard thunk, and he fades into unconsciousness. _**Three men center, two front one behind.**_ Before the rest of the men have a chance to charge towards me, I leap towards the center, twisting in the air as I do so, then launch two kicks outwards. They connect with men in front, and with my momentum I reach the man behind them, put his head in between my legs, and as I fall, I twist downwards, bringing him with me. I roll and bring my hands in front of me, and as I look forward from the concrete, I lock eyes with the criminal I brought down. We look at each other for a brief moment, and I can see the confusion and fear in his eyes. I twist my body on one hand and bring my knee across his face, replacing confused eyes with glazed over ones. I sense one of the men I kicked getting up, so I propel myself upwards with my right hand for a quick moment, bringing my legs together and hit him in the face with my heels, sending him spinning onto the asphalt. I catch myself with my left hand and push myself towards him, landing on his back. I bring an elbow down onto his shoulder blade, hearing the bone snap in two, causing him to scream in agony. I web his free hand to the ground, leaving him to wail helplessly.

I slowly get up, not even bothering to put up a guard. I walk towards the last man standing, the one I attacked first. He is still slumped over, seemingly having trouble standing. _**Bones rubbing together, fractured.**_ Ah. I broke some of his ribs. Could he take another hit and be fine?

"You motherfucker. You n' those cunts are fuckn' dead." Yes, he can. So, I bring my foot up and hit him in the chest once more, sending him flying into the side of a container. He slumps to the ground, unconscious. I take a moment to web him and his compatriots up, leaving enough so that the police wouldn't have to wait too long for it to dissolve when they got here.

 _ **Five people, huddled together. Hearts racing, terrified.**_ I stop for a moment, collecting myself before I face the victims. I feel the dread move throughout my body as I hear the victims squirm in terror. I control myself, and finally turn towards the container and walk towards it, moving on autopilot, dowsing any apprehension I feel in cold precision.

The sight I see is one I've seen plenty of times before, but it doesn't dull the anguish I feel any less. The dirty clothes that barely cling to them, the malnourished bodies that look as if they can't even support their own weight.

The fear in their eyes, and the look that tells me that even though they've prayed otherwise, they know that they'll never be safe. That they'll never be free again.

I'm going to change that.

The three boys all look away, close their eyes, and huddle closer together, afraid that I'm one of the men who hurt them. One of the girls covers them with her body, also looking away, while the other puts her arms around them, and does her best approximation of a glare. Her attempt at looking brave. It was still one of the bravest things I've ever seen, even though I've already seen it more than I'd like to admit. Before I speak, I move my hand towards my throat and turn off my synthesizer. A part of me want to remove my mask, to help them feel less afraid, but I squash it. I couldn't make a risk like that in this moment.

"It's okay." I finally speak up. I make sure to sound clear and strong, but also sound empathetic enough to not scare them further. "It's over. They won't hurt any of you again." I kneel down after I say this, and the rest start to look up at me. Their eyes start to reflect something else. "You need to get out of here. Stay in the light, flag down the first officer you see." I get up and make a motion with my arm to get them to hurry. The one that was holding them all still looked suspicious, but quickly made them get up. The other girl protested, but eventually conceded. As she got up and collected the other boys, she looked at me. Her eyes still showed nothing but how afraid she was. I look away to give her some peace of mind and walk towards one of the men to search his pockets. I find a phone and give it to the girl. An attempt to calm her down.

"Take this." I hold out the cell. She looks down, anxious. "Just in case." She looks back up, still afraid. She snatches it and quickly runs towards the rest of the group, heading out into the streets. I feel the tension in my body release all at once, and it causes me to stumble for a bit. I let out a shaky breath, holding my hands to my knees to keep myself upright. Even after doing this properly for around a year, seeing this inhumane act still managed to shake me to my core.

Hopefully the police would be able to get some information off of the phone. 'Make themselves useful for once.' I dismiss that thought as soon as I have it. Thinking like that wouldn't help anyone right now. I go to another one of the men and grab another phone and dial 110, turning my synthesizer back on.

"Hello, this is the Tokyo Metropolitan Police, what's the situation?" The voice of the responder answers in a robotic tone.

 **"There was a human trafficking situation developing near the docks of Minato prefecture, dock number thirteen. Send three police cruisers and an ambulance."** The responder actually chortles at my bluntness, but I throw the phone away from the criminals, making sure to leave it on so the signal can be tracked.

A couple screaming out; they're being mugged. I stop a sigh from escaping my lips and force myself to calm down. I command the anxiety I feel to drain out of me and replace it with steel determination. I sprint out from the area, jump high into the air, and being to swing into the cool air of Tokyo.

_'It's going to be another late night.'_


	2. A Warm Welcome

* * *

** 4/10 Early Morning **

* * *

"Sherioshly man, thanksh fer the help." The drunkard I was helping back to his apartment, his arm over my shoulders and my hand to his side to keep him balanced as we went up the stairs of his building, belched out. The stink of alcohol invades my sinuses and makes my head spin, but I manage to deal with it well enough.

**"You're welcome."** I try my best to sound kind, but the warping effect of my synthesizer and my admitted annoyance at the man's need to unload his issues onto my lap makes my voice sound like a low sneer. Though it doesn't seem to bother him much, if at all.

"But yous get where I'm commin from, yeah?" He deliriously asks, and I'm at a loss as how to respond. All I've been doing as he talked to me is nod and agree with whatever he went on about, so I have no idea what he's referring to.

**"Of course."** I continue the pattern, and mercifully I see his apartment door as we clear the final steps, practically dragging him by this point.

"This ish me." He chirps, grabbing his keys as I sidle him against his door. He unlocks it and enters, but before he closes the door, he turns to me and starts pointing his finger into my chest. "Hey, now, I know that you mask types always hav'ta work n' help people like that, but don't work too hard, kay? Try n' have a little fun now and then, huh?"

_'… It seems like you have too much fun yourself.'_ I leave the comment in my mind, and accept the friendly advice for what it is. Still, the fact that I pried this individual off the sidewalk, face first in his own vomit, it unfortunately lost some of its intended impact. Even so, advice is advice. **"Thank you, sir."** I bow as I prepare to leave. **"Have a good night. Or, well, morning."** I look towards skyline, and I can see the telltale signs of the sun starting to rise in the horizon. If I had to guess, it was nearing five in the morning. 'Besides, with all that happens in this city, I don't have time to relax.' My brows furrow at the thought as it creeps its way to the forefront of my mind unbidden, but I ignore it for the moment.

"Hah! Least you've got a sense of humor!" … I do? Before I could ponder further what he just said, he closes his door, and I can hear him fall onto the ground in his entrance way. His snoring quickly follows afterwards.

_'... He should be fine.'_ I turn towards the rail and get on top of it. Getting a better look at the skyline, I can see the rays of sun glinting off the small windows of the various apartment buildings. 'I probably have to stop for today.' I let out an annoyed sigh at the thought, as I felt like I hadn't done as much as I usually do when on patrol. A part of me can't help but feel particularly annoyed that the last major thing I did was help a drunk man get home. I let out a sigh at the thought, and it comes out as a metallic rumble.

_'Maybe I can stay out a little bit longer?'_ With that idea in mind, I go for the compartment on my belt that holds a phone I designed to be used specifically when I'm out like this, as I hacked into various cell towers in the city in order for it to work and not be able to be traced back to me in any way. However, when I open the latch only to feel nothing, I look down into it only to see empty space. I quickly check the rest of the belt and am greeted with the same disappointing results.

_'How could I have-'_ Before I could finish that question, I flash back to last night when I was about to get ready before I was interrupted by Sakura's conversation on the phone. When he was talking to... **"Damnit."** I growl out as I remember the episode I had afterwards, and all of the pent-up agitation that had been building up in me throughout the day. When I was finally able to just get my costume out, I must have been in such a rush that I would make such an idiotic mistake as forgetting my 'work' phone. I slam the pocket closed, hitting the side of my hip in frustration.

Taking a moment to look at my surroundings, I take a calming breath before I lightly jump off, shooting out strands of web onto the small apartment buildings that made up the area. I had wound up all the way in Nerima ward, so the low and spacious buildings made for difficult travel with my web shooters. Still, I could easily manage if I put enough force into my swings, so as I reached the end of my arc, I push my lower body outwards, letting go of my web as I do so. The refreshing chill of the morning air rushes past me, and helps to cool down my body as well as ease my tempered mood. Unfortunately for me, it soon turns into an ever present cold that I could easily do without. The new rush of stimulus only succeeds in worsening my quickly declining mood, and I begin to pick up my pace in order to back to the café as quickly as possible.

As I continue this pattern on a return course to the cafe, I begin to recap the events of last night and early morning. _'Prevented a human trafficking event. Stopped a couple from getting mugged. Prevented several overdoses. Interrupted a drug deal. Stopped a variety of assaults, and finally, helped a drunk man get home.'_ I scan over the various events in my head, and convince myself that I had done enough for tonight. It had been a relatively slow evening when compared to my usual outings, but I could easily chalk that up to the fact that I was patrolling different wards than I was used to. As such, I still hadn't gotten a feel for the area. Didn't do anything to make me feel as if I had done anything of note when the evening was nearing its end. Even so getting angry won-

_**A loud burst, followed by metal scratching against concrete.**_ My chest feels as if it collapses in on itself at hearing the familiar sound, but I manage to stifle it enough to look down to the road I was currently swinging over. A car's front tire had burst, causing it to dangerously careen forwards despite the driver's best attempts at applying the brake. I look ahead of the vehicle, and I feel a cold sweat break out across my skin as I notice the intersection the car was careening into was occupied by a bus. I could see the passengers from my spot in the air begin to panic.

Drowning out any apprehension I feel, I shoot out a web onto a building at such a low angle that I begin to descend at a greater speed than my previous leisurely swings. When I reach the rising arc of my swing, I let go of the web and twist through the air, landing on the hood of the car. The driver's eyes widen in shock and terror, letting out a shriek as he sees me. Not letting him distract me, I shoot out two webs onto the road, but made sure to keep my little finger on the firing mechanism. The way it worked was, depending on the amount of pressure on it, it would control the speed of web released, so by keeping only one finger on it I would be able to hasten the deceleration of the vehicle. The issue wasn't that my webs weren't elastic enough to slow down the vehicle. In fact, it would probably be the more effective option. But, if I were to simply let go of the button immediately, I'd likely crush the front of the car due to the immediate force of stopping it and seriously injure the driver.

So, with all of that in mind, I increased my grip on the webs that were slowly lengthening themselves as the car went closer to the bus in the intersection. Traffic in front of it had stopped, so it had no chance of escaping the potential crash.

**" _Come on!_ "** I seethe out through gritted teeth. The vehicle was slowing down, but we were still going fast enough to cause damage to the bus. Looking back, I could see the quickly closing distance becoming smaller and smaller. Thinking quickly, I repositioned myself onto the vehicle's front bumper and began to push back with my feet, slowly straightening my body into a planking position. I started to dig into the front of the car and buckle it, but my plan had worked well enough, as we slowed down at a considerable rate. As we got closer and closer to the bus, we were at a speed where it wouldn't do any damage whatsoever, and I eventually started to push myself against the glass windshields of the opposing vehicle until my head and entire back were against its side as we came to a stop. I peered into the bus and saw the scared passengers, their eyes widening in disbelief at what they were seeing.

_**"Did you see that?!"** _

_**"We're okay?"** _

_**"Who's the dude in the mask?"** _

I hear the various conversations and questions erupt inside, but I ignore them as I let go of the webs and disembark from the car's bumper. I snag my leg on one of the warped ends of the front, causing me to slightly trip up. I manage to catch myself before I fall, and as I get up, I look at the front bumper and see the damage and twistedmetalleakingfluidsbro _kenenginepartssplittin **ginalldirections-**_

_'No,'_ my breathing starts coming out in quick gasps, _'not now.'_ The world around me begins to swim into a twisted after image of people merging together, my lungs feel like they're about to collapse, and I hear the blaring of ambulance sirens, even though there are none to be seen. _'Damnit.'_ All of the feelings I had been holding back hit me with full force, and I absently hear the sound of tires screech across the pavement, even though there are none moving due to the incident that just transpired. I try to slow my breathing, but my throat feels as if it's trying to close in on itself, and every breath I take in I quickly exhale back out.

_**"Is he okay?"**_ I hear one of the passengers of the bus say, and as I look up, I see someone standing above me.

_'Above me?'_ My mind asks itself, and it takes a second to realize that I'm on the ground, my legs having given out at seeing the small damage I had inflicted on the car. The person overlooking me asks another question, but it comes out a warbled static, and soon, the image of a paramedic begins to superimpose itself onto them.

_'Get away!'_ I rush to my feet, startling the person standing over me. I pay them no mind and dash away from the scene, nearly running into streetlamp and toppling it. I quickly jump into an alley and begin to haphazardly swing away from the scene. My breath comes in with small gasps, not even taking a moment to exhale, and the influx of air means I can barely focus on what's around me. My vision continues to blur, and the world still warps and spasms in afterimages of days gone by. I bring a hand up to try and rub at my eyes through my lenses, closing them from behind them to force the images from my sight. Opening them, I can more easily see in front of me and-

I hastily let go of the web I was holding and bring my arms up to cover my head as I violently crash into the side of a building. Bouncing off the now cracked concrete, I fall onto to the ground in an undignified heap. The pain that rushes through me feels like I just hit the side of a tank, and the concrete I writhe against feels as though its going to shear my skin of from how I was rubbing against it. Even though my body was so resistant to injury, my senses made every small scrap feel worse than it actually was.

_'Breath.'_ I try to get my breathing under control as I lay on the ground. The cold of the asphalt and the pain of the impact helps to give my mind something to focus on, and my quickly rising chest helps me know how fast I'm actually breathing. I use every time it takes in air against the pavement as a measure in how to slow down my hyperventilation. My back spasms in pain from time to time due to my enhanced senses, but it soon subsides in tandem with every calming breath I take. In an effort to take my mind off of the accident I helped avert, I open my senses to the immediate area and listen to the various mundanities around me.

_**A man; getting up to go to work. He gives his wife a kiss on the cheek before he leaves the bed.** _

_**A woman; throwing up. Groans about having too much to drink last night.** _

_**A man; snoring. He's still asleep.** _

As I listen to the various noises around me, my breathing slows down, and my body stops twitching uncontrollably. I close my eyes, breathing into my nose and then out my mouth in calm, collected motions. I bring a hand up to my forehead to wipe away the sweat that had formed, only to meet the fabric of my mask. Letting out a pained sigh, I push myself up from the ground, limping slightly from a pain that shot up my leg. I walk over to the side of a building and rest against it for a bit, regaining my breath and taking a moment to let whatever pain was left from my crash pass.

… While it might not be wise, I reach out with my senses back to the scene of the averted crash site, readying myself before I do so.

_**People huddled around the area; firemen and ambulance personnel are on the scene, checking any people for wounded. The only one with any physical issues is the driver of the car that nearly crashed. Neck soreness and potential whiplash from me stopping it the way I did.** _

I feel a pang of guilt for that, and for the fact that I had damaged the man's car. Hopefully insurance would be able to cover any problems he might have had.

_'... Even after all this time, things like that still bother me more than dealing with hardened criminals.'_ My eyes narrow at the bitter irony of the thought. I shake my head at an attempt to clear things like that from my mind. Pushing off the wall, I reach a hand upwards and begin to slowly crawl upwards, not making any exaggerated movements in order to lessen the strain on my now sore body. As I reached the top, I walked over to the edge and looked out past the buildings. I see the clouds lighting up with the rays of the sun, signifying that it was highly likely past five, five thirty at best. _'No sleep for me tonight.'_ Well, morning technically.

With that thought in mind, I jumped off the building and resumed my trek back at a quickened pace. I would have to clean myself up in order to look presentable to my new school.

* * *

** 4/10 Morning **

* * *

After finally arriving to Leblanc and climbing back in through the window, I rip my masks off, grab the box I found my costume in and search through it, eventually finding my left behind work phone.

_'Stupid mistake.'_ Making a mental note to not forget it the next time I went out, I grab it and tap the screen in order to check the time. Six twenty-three, meaning I didn't have much time to get ready. So, I rushed my costume and utilities off, put them to the bottom of the box, and grabbed my hygiene kit, slipping on a simple pair of jeans and sweatshirt before heading down to the bathroom of the café. As I step in and turn on the light, I see myself in the mirror's reflection. I give myself a quick inspection, checking to see that no bruises or cuts had formed from my encounter with the side of a building. Thankfully, there were none.

There weren't even any bags under my eyes. I didn't feel tired when I got back, which was one of the few things I was thankful for when it came to my abilities. It might not be healthy, but given what happened on my way back, it was probably for the best that I didn't try and get some sleep. I likely wouldn't have been able to.

Moving on from that, I grab my toothbrush and begin to clean myself. The smell of the paste invades my throat and the foam from my brushing begins to leak over into the sink due to how thoroughly I'm scrubbing my teeth, and after twenty minutes I come to a stop. I spit out the foam and wash it out, the feeling of scum being replaced by the layer of mint flavoring. I wash my mouth even more in order to get rid of that. The smell and feeling of mint being ever present in my mouth would make me feel sick after a while.

Finishing up and exiting the café, I walk over towards the public bathhouse that was just across from the place. I felt a little guilty just leaving the door to the café unlocked, but given my enhanced sense, I would be able to easily see if anyone tried to break in. Moving on, the bathhouse was open, even this early, so I quickly entered and was met with the sight of the elderly gentleman who owned the place at the front desk. He had his head buried into a book, but he looked up towards me for a quick moment from the top of his glasses, a bored expression on his face. He quickly looked back to his book, and I absently looked at the title, seeing the words 'Arsene Lupin, Gentleman Thief.'

"Good morning." I softly spoke up, but only received a grunt as acknowledgement. There was an awkward pause as I waited for any other sort of word from the owner, until he lazily pointed to a sign on the wall to the right of me that showcased the various prices for admission and types of luxuries that were made available depending on what was spent.

Grabbing some money from my wallet and putting it on the counter, I choose the cheapest option available and walk into the empty bathhouse. Before I undress, I check to see that I'm alone, even though the privacy curtain that divided the entrance from the changing stalls ensured I would be. Even a quick glance told me that I was the only one in the bathhouse at the time. Still, considering what I was looking for as I undressed, I couldn't be too careful.

As I took my shirt off, I looked to my chest, and was mercifully not disappointed at what I didn't manage to find. Despite my fears, there was no visible damage from my run in. While there were still tinges of tightness, and my side still felt somewhat raw, it seemed that my healing factor managed to do its job well enough.

Finishing my inspection, I fully undressed and grabbed my toiletries, entering the bath and begin to scrub away all of the grime and sweat that had built up last night. Raking the sponge across my skin with a feverish pace, I can feel the chemicals of the shampoo practically embed themselves into my skin until I bring a cleansing batch of water to take it away. One of the novelties of using cheap shampoo was that it didn't feel as though it clung to my skin quite as much as the more expensive brands, and I could handle the aroma with less difficulty and general annoyance throughout the day as it eventually went away. It's not that it bothered me to a great extent, but it was simply one less headache I would have to deal with.

I quickly finish up in the bathhouse and return to the café, lock the door back up, and note the time on the clock over the shelves of coffee beans reads seven forty-three. As I enter the attic, I'm hit by the grinding feel of the dust that's left over from yesterday in the air and surfaces of the room coursing against my exposed skin. Stifling a groan at the sensation, I redress into my school uniform and make sure to grab my regular phone and put it into my right pocket. I'll have to clean this place more thoroughly when I get back.

_'As well as find a place to hide my outfit.'_ I look down to the box that has all of my items, then look around the room in order to try and find a suitable hiding place. I'm left wanting at what I see, as there simply isn't a lot of options available for the small space. I could try and pry open some of the floorboards and hide it that way, but that would create noise whenever someone walked over them, so that wouldn't do.

_'It'll have to wait for now, Sakura will probably be here any minute.'_ I let out a frustrated sigh after thinking that. It was a risk to leave my costume on the ground where anyone could find it, but I quickly ignore the concern. The only person who would come up here other than me is Sakura, and based on the way he acted yesterday, he likely didn't want to involve himself in my affairs any more than he already has.

With that thought in mind, I move towards the open carboard box and kneel down in order to close its flaps, but a small glinting light stops me. Squinting my eyes to get better look, my body freezes as I recognize the item, as well as what it leans against. I shoot a hand towards my chest and feel around, trying to find the familiar weight that I usually feel whenever I bring my hand up to hold it. I feel nothing but empty space. I look down the object, seeing the silver chain resting against the back of the small wooden frame. A sharp tightness appears in my chest as I stare at it.

_'I must have forgotten it when I was packing.'_ Well, that's what I tell myself at least. It's more likely that I wanted to forget it outright, due to what the cross signified to me. I don't even remember grabbing it or the picture as I packed my belongings together when I got the word I was moving in with Sakura. I wanted to leave it, like everything else, in an attempt to try and put the past sixteen years behind me.

Yet here it was, unconsciously clinging to me.

I grab both items and stand, letting the chain dangle down from my clenched right hand, the cross swaying slightly from side to side. The silver cross stared back at me, its arms long since broken off, the zigzagging pattern of broken metal on its sides being the only reminder of what the necklace once was. I look at it, a solemn moment of silence washing over the attic as I do so. For a brief moment, everything around me goes silent. There's no sound, no smells. Nothing. I look to my left hand, the one holding the picture frame. I stare at it, and suddenly I'm aware of my heartbeat rising faster and faster as I look at it. My arm tenses up, as if trying to prepare me for something unseen. It doesn't help, as I slowly start to turn my hand in order to get a look at the picture in the frame.

_**A woman looks back, tired but lovingly. Lights blind her face and my eyes. Glass breaks as I hear a violent**_ **CRASH** _ **.**_ I stop my hand, and eventually drop my arms to my side like dead weight. The scene eventually fades from my eyes, but the feeling of emptiness I get every time I flash back to that moment remains. Robotically, I move to the table that rests against the wall dividing the stairs from the store and rest the picture face down on it, grabbing my school bag as I do so. I don't even register that I put the cross around my neck and underneath the blazer and shirt of my uniform as I descend the stairs.

_'That's right,'_ I think to myself, dejected. _'There is no leaving behind what I did.'_

I absentmindedly look to the clock again, seeing that it read five after eight, then sit down on one of the stool's that line the bar, resting my chin against my hand. Thankfully, Sakura enters after only a couple of minutes of waiting. Good. I didn't want to be left alone with my thoughts after that depressing episode. When he looks up from the door, he seems shocked to see me.

"You're already up?" He asks, sounding as if he doesn't believe himself.

"Yeah." I reply. My simple answer seems to slightly stun him, as he takes a moment to compose himself.

"W-well, did you get enough sleep?"

"... Yes." I lie easily enough, looking away as I do so. "Plenty of sleep." I get up from the stool and walk over to him, ready to leave.

"What are you doing?" … What did he mean by that?

"You said that you wanted to be in and out, right?"

"Have you even eaten yet?" Sakura seemed to be getting upset for whatever reason, but what it was, I couldn't place.

"It doesn't matter. I can when we get back." I stated simply. He looked at me with a confused expression on his face, as if he didn't understand what I just said. It was quickly replaced by a scowl as he let out a small growl of frustration.

"Fine then. Just don't complain to me if you get hungry." He sharply turned towards the door and opened it. I followed him out and walked behind him in the tight walkways of Yongen-jaya. As we pass the entrance of the alley that leads to the café, he turns right, causing me to stop, confused at his choice of direction.

"Are we not taking the train?" We would have to go left in order to reach the station. Sakura half turns to me, his now trademark annoyed expression clear even when I can only see half of his face.

"The train schedules are on the fritz, so I'll be driving you this one time." My heart plummets into my stomach after he says that. I stay rooted to my spot, not registering that what he said had just happened.

"We're... driving? In a car?" I stutter out, hoping that what Sakura just said was some sort of joke.

"Yes, we're driving in a car. Move it." He resumes his trek to the right, and I automatically start following him without realizing it.

_'Of course we're driving.'_ The bitter irony of the situation wasn't lost on me. We eventually walk past what I assume to be Sakura's house and to the back of the building. His garage door is already open and a white, old fashioned car sits inside of it. The only solace I take out of this situation is that it's a two-door vehicle, so I would be sitting in the front seat. So, silver linings, at least.

"Damnit. Men aren't usually allowed in my passenger seat." I ignore Sakura's irritated comment as I sit down in the passenger seat. My entire body feels tense, and my spine is rim-rod straight as I buckle in. I try my best not to show my frayed nerves as the car starts up and pulls into the road.

_'I haven't gotten any sleep, and already I want this day to end.'_

* * *

** 4/10 Daytime **

* * *

The car ride was, thankfully, uneventful. Sakura either didn't notice my discomfort or simply didn't care to comment on it, but either way it was mercifully over. As we exited the car, I took a grateful breath of the fresh air as I looked upon the new school that I would be attending as part of my probation.

Shujin Academy. It was a high school that specialized in preparing its students for college, and its reputation was high enough that after graduating from the place, you were guaranteed a spot in whichever university in the country you picked.

I had no use for it though. I already knew what was in store for me after graduation, and what I had planned for myself. I only picked the school since it was the first option that was presented to me.

"Do me a favor and behave yourself, alright?" I'm brought out of my musings by Sakura's ever-present indifferent warnings for me. "Don't get me wrong, I don't care what happens to you." That was never in question. "Just don't cause me any trouble."

I can feel a part of myself starting to lose patience for Sakura's attitude, but I manage to ignore it. "I won't." I state as I walk past him and go up the steps of the school. I hear him let out a grumble at my response, but I keep moving forward. The sooner this was done, the better. I needed to sort some things out back at the café and finish cleaning the place in order to make my stay there more bearable.

As I enter the building, I let my senses spread out in order to get a general feel for the place. The school was very utilitarian in design, forming a sort of U shape that housed three floors, with the courtyard having a square design with hallways that connected the different sides of the building. Sakura and I find the principal's office soon enough, and as Sakura finished signing the papers that were to finalize my transfer to the school, I was given a moment to survey the room and its occupants.

Principal Kobayakawa immediately stood out due to his size and tan suit that seemed to have trouble fitting him into it. His bald head shone from the light coming through the window behind his desk, highlighting his stern expression. The woman standing to his right wore simpler clothes by comparison, and had a leaner figure, with her yellow striped sweater and denim skirt making it seem as if she wanted to blend in. She looked down at the desk, and her curly brown hair helped to hide her face from my sight. I could tell by her slack posture that she was tired, and that she likely wanted to be anywhere but here.

"Now remember, you will be expelled immediately if you cause any trouble here." Kobayakawa reiterated the point again, and I do nothing but stand at attention and listen to it for what feels like the umpteenth time. "Honestly, I was hesitant to accept someone like you to begin with, but there were circumstances on our side."

My eyes narrow slightly at that, and I steal a small glance to the display case behind the woman. Behind the glass are several accolades and school trophies, all of them some sort of congratulation or accomplishment that the school had gained throughout the years. I can easily guess what those circumstances that compelled him were by looking at them. "I understand sir. Thank you for giving me this chance." I state and bow, but the actions feel hollow to me. It seemed to satisfy Kobayakawa enough though.

"Make no mistake young man, I don't care what kind of trouble you used to get into beforehand, but you will behave yourself here." I only nod at that, and an ironic thought comes to mind, as the 'trouble' I got into last night makes what this rotund man is saying gain a rather ignorant edge from my perspective, but I quickly cast it aside. "This is the teacher in charge of your class." He points to the woman standing next to him, and for the first time she actually looks up at me.

"I'm Sadayo Kawakami." She introduces herself, and her tone is laced with tired annoyance. "Here's your student ID and handbook. Any violations of the rules will send you straight to the guidance office." I move to grab them from her hand, but she places them on the desk before I reach it. I pause for the briefest of moments before grabbing them, placing my ID in my pocket. I'd have a chance to put it in my wallet when I got to the car. "If you get into any trouble, I won't be able to help you at all." Meaning you don't want to help at all. I cast a glance at her, and for a small moment, we lock eyes. For some reason, she flinches and quickly looks away.

_'Shut up.'_ I tell myself, clenching my hand behind my back and looking forward at Kobayakawa in order to try and put my nerves at ease. _'You're causing nothing but problems for these people. For everyone.'_ I don't deserve anything else but this.

"But really though, why me?" Kawakami complains to Kobayakawa, and despite my attempts at respectful silence, I can feel my jaw clench in growing frustration. "There weren't any other candidates?"

"You were the only one with an open spot. Besides, we couldn't have him in the same class with that Sakamoto, could we?" The two continue to talk as if I'm not even present.

"Are we done here?" Surprisingly, Sakura stops the conversation, and I hear a bit of anger in his tone as I turn to look at him in wonder. "I have a shop to get back to."

"Oh, of course Sakura-san." Pleasantries are exchanged, and I follow Sakura to the door. Before I close it, I turn and bow to the two faculty members. Neither return it.

I have to pick up my pace a bit in order to catch up with Sakura, who had left the office with a hurried pace. "Jeez, they're treating you like some kind of nuisance." He grumbles out through strained teeth.

"Aren't I though?" My question causes him to come to an abrupt halt mid stride, and I almost bump into him when he turns around to face me. His face is scrunched up in shocked confusion. "It's obvious. My presence is causing problems for you and the staff, so the fact that their annoyance is showing is understandable." Despite my own misgivings about the way everyone was acting, it was my own fault that they were doing so. I have no right to complain.

Sakura stands still for a moment, his face still showing nothing but disbelief at what I had just said. There's something else there, though, that I can't quite place. His eyes soften, and his throat constricts as if he's trying to decide on what to say. "Let's just get back to the café." He breaths out, turning around and walking ahead. I stand there, equally baffled by Sakura's actions.

Was he... actually worried about me? I make to follow him, but the question remains in my head. _'Why would he be worried about me?'_ This line of thought only makes me more and more puzzled as I pursue it, and it eventually leads me to ponder...

Just why did Sojiro Sakura decide to take me in?

* * *

** 4/10 Daytime **

* * *

Kawakami was thankful that the faculty office was empty, because she didn't sit at her desk so much as collapse into it, and was able to let out a long, frustrated groan as she rested her head in her arms in solitude. "Why me?" Taking another student after the school year had already started was manageable, but accepting one with a criminal record? Principal Kobayakawa had explained to her that the school's reputation would be bolstered by 'rehabilitating' a delinquent, that it would show how dedicated Shujin was to teaching the youth of Japan how to be good members of society, even for people with a criminal record. She remembered Kobayakawa looking so proud of himself when he explained it to her, so it had the effect of sounding hollow.

_'And he probably saw right through it as well.'_ She got a good look at Kurokuya Kouzai's eyes as he glared the trophy case behind her. The empty, black orbs staring down at her from his tall height, looking as if they were boring into her soul and judging her. She had to look away from them as he stared at her after telling him not to get in trouble. Despite his calm demeanor, even with the principal lashing into him, Sadayo Kawakami couldn't look past Kurokuya's cold gaze, as if he had a quiet contempt for everything around him. Kawakami got up from her position to stretch and then stifle a yawn. While she didn't feel comfortable using a student the way Kobayakawa was, Sadayo had too much on her plate to worry about it as much as she felt she should.

She was brought out of her reverie by the sound of the door opening, and the sickeningly kind voice that comes from it. "Ah, Miss Kawakami, so good to see you!" She could hear a sense of surprise in his tone, but ignored as she forced herself to face him.

"Good morning, Kamoshida-sensei." She sighed out, already wanting this creep to leave.

"Come on, we've known each other long enough! No need for formalities." The smile Kamoshida gives Kawakami gives her the impression that he's trying to be friendly, but all she feels is unease at how staged it looked.

"What brings you here," she asks in order for the conversation to end as quickly as possible. "It's a Sunday."

"Well, the volleyball rally is coming up, and I want to make sure my team is in tip top shape. There's a lot riding on this after all!"

_'Like your ego.'_ "Ah, that's right. I must've forgotten." Something flashes across Kamoshida's face, but it fades away easily and the smile from before stretches out further. A part of Kawakami feels her spine twinge in a feeling that she can't recognize. Like some instinctual part of her that acted up to tell her she was in danger. A part of her she felt whenever she was around Suguru Kamoshida.

She knows that there's a part to Kamoshida than he hides from everyone else. Every time she laid her eyes on the man, all she saw was someone trying their hardest to look the best when compared to his peers. But there was something else behind all of that. It was a sick feeling she got whenever the man talked about his practice methods, or how he needed to 'improve the forms' of some select members of the team he coached. A dark look to the man's eyes as he explained that bit, as if he was looking forward to it.

Kawakami knew that there was something wrong about the man, but she couldn't bring herself to do anything about it. After all, she had her own issues to worry about.

"Well, I just dropped by to see if there was anyone in the office. Enjoy the rest of your weekend!" Kawakami flinches at the innocent comment, and sticks her tongue out at the door as Kamoshida leaves.

"Jackass." She mumbles. _'So, Kurokuya Kouzai.'_ In spite of her misgivings about the boy, Kawakami felt that she had to do at least something for him. There was no way she herself could help, given her own responsibilities and personal matters that needed her attention. Right now, what someone like him needed was someone responsible. A good role model that he could learn from. Someone who would at least give him a chance.

A figurative lightbulb went off in her head at that, and feeling quite pleased with herself, Kawakami picks up the phone on her desk and dials the number in the student directory of the perfect person she has in mind for the little task she planned out.

* * *

** 4/10 Daytime **

* * *

Unfortunately, traffic on the way back to the café was far worse than when we left it, and as a result, my body feels as if it made of marble from how tense I am. I grip the armrest of the door as if it held the secrets of the universe, and letting it go would make them lost forever. The ride back also does a number on Sakura's mood, as he angrily slams his hand on the dashboard, causing me to momentarily jump in shock from the noise.

"You're taking the train starting tomorrow!" He barks out, not noticing my rising discomfort. "Should've made you take the train to begin with." I was _strongly_ agreeing with that sentiment the more time went on. "Now I won't be able to open the shop today because of you and this damn traffic." I feel a pang of guilt at that.

"I'm sorry." I manage to strain the words out, and they sound pitifully soft due to my being so on edge. Sakura looks over at me _**–don'tstoplookattheroad-**_ , his face still showing signs of his anger, but it dissipates after a moment. He lets out a long, frustrated sigh then mercifully looks back in front of him, making me let out a breath of my own.

"It's fine. Just traffic getting on my nerves is all." His voice loses its previous edge, and it helps to calm me for a quick moment. "Well, what'd you think of it? The school?" The question serves as a helpful distraction, so I grab onto it with vigor.

"It seems like a good school." I search for something to add, but I find nothing.

"Well just make sure to behave yourself, alright?" I nod absentmindedly, not even caring about having the same point reiterated to me yet again. "You've only got one shot, so don't blow it." Sakura looks like he wants to say something else, but decides against it at the last second and focuses on driving. The silence goes on for some time, and I hate every second of it.

_**A man, fifty feet away in a car. He's whistling to the song on his radio.**_ My eyes widen, and my composure almost collapses at the realization of what's happening. The lid I had been keeping on my senses was starting to falter due to my frayed nerves from this mornings' events, and I was now reaching its nadir. I can feel the exhaust in the air out of the car scratching my skin and nose, the seatbelt feels as ifitstryingt _ocrushmychestglassoft **hewindshieldbreakinskin**_ -

_'Stay calm. Center yourself.'_ I begin to take deep breaths in order to regain control and-

_**"So how did the meeting go at work?" A woman asks her husband, forty-seven feet away in a van.** _

_'Damnit, damnit, damnit.'_ I tighten my throat in order to stop myself from hyperventilating, as my efforts to settle down fail one after another. I breathe through my nose in a vain attempt to not attract attention to my episode.

However, Sakura's phone rings, rendering my effort moot as he makes to answer it. "Hello?" I can't hear the other person on the end of the line over myself, but I can make out the high-pitched voice coming out of it. "What do you mean, it isn't the right one?" The conversation goes on, and I cling to every word coming from Sakura in order to center my senses. It helps, but just barely. After a few seconds, Sakura lets out a groan and says, "Alright, alright. I'll go pick it up. Yes. Yes, right now. Good god, yes. I'll be back soon." He hangs up, and looks to me. "I have to make a quick stop at the store." I nod, but realize the golden egg that had just been dropped on my lap at that sentence.

A chance to get out of this damn machine.

"Would it be easier for you if I went back to the café on my own?" I ask in desperation, already moving my hand to the latch of my seatbelt. Sakura looks at me in confusion.

"The hell do you mean?"

"You need to go to the store, so would it be easier if I left for the café?" I can hear my heart beating against my chest with shorter intervals, and sweat starts to show up on the back of my neck. Please, just let me get _out of this thing!_

"Would you mind?"

_'THANK GOD!_ ' "No." I spit the word out as fast as I can, and in order to stop any further argument, I unbuckle my seatbelt and grab the door handle.

"Wait a sec, would you?" Sakura stops me with slight indignation in his voice, probably from my hurried state. I almost ignore him and bolt out the door, but manage to calm myself down enough to look back at him. He gives me a strange look as he holds out his hand, dangling a key from it. "It's for the shop. Lock it up when you get back." I practically snatch the thing from his hand and then bolt out the door, weaving out of traffic with a speed and urgency that surprises the bystanders that I nearly bump into as I make it to the sidewalk.

I eventually round the corner of the last building on my street and press my back against it, bringing my hand to my face in order to wipe off the sweat building on my forehead and to get control of my breathing. Some of the passersby give me a strange glance, but I pay them no mind as I try to calm my writhing emotions. I ignore the sounds of blaring car horns and stuttering engines, replacing them by bringing a hand to my chest so that I can feel the rhythmic sound of my heartbeat. Instead, I feel a small object being pushed against my skin. Confused, I grasp it through my shirt, and only then do I remember what it is.

_'I don't even remember putting it on.'_ Pulling the chain from my neck and bringing the front of it up, I look down on the broken piece of jewelry in my hand. Somehow, despite what it represented to me, I calm down from my current predicament as I look at it. I remember who it belonged to, and for once, instead of the usual pain I fell when I reminisce on them, I feel the warmth of earlier times. I thought that I had forgotten them a long time ago.

Sighing, I place it back into my shirt and begin the trek back to the café. I reach the station in short time and memorize the route needed to get to Shujin for tomorrow. As I sit in the compartment of the train, the plug I had placed on my power slips back into place with practiced ease. I return to Leblanc a little before evening, not even noticing that Sakura hasn't returned, and my walk up the stairs and subsequent undressing into less suffocating clothes is followed by me falling into the bed.

For once, sleep comes easily to me. Hopefully I'd be able to maintain it.


	3. Kind Meetings

My eyes open, but I'm not in the dusty attic of Leblanc. I look down, and see an expanse of road, with me standing over the yellow line. I raise my hands and idly note that I'm in my costume. Everything I see is out of focus, as there's a sort of washed-out afterimage that follows every movement. I look to the side and see nothing, just an expanse of blackness. I try to step forward, but my foot refuses to move. Looking down, I don't see anything that could deter it and try again, only to meet the same result.

'Get away.' Slowly, panic start to take over, and my legs begin to spasm in a desperate attempt to free themselves. Moving my hands to them, I try and gain some sort of leverage, but nothing comes from it. My fingers tear through the fabric of my costume, the bits of torn thread accompanied by a trail of crimson liquid and twitching muscle. 'Get away from here.'

I see a faint light growing in front of me, and my shadow rising to meet it. Only until it's too late do I realize that the light is coming from behind, and by the time I turn around I only see two large, mad beams of warbling light racing towards me. I raise my arms up - 'Why bother' - in a pointless effort of protecting myself. It makes the lights veer unnaturally to the side, and I hear a crash follow suit. Metal grinds against glass against metal against skinagainstboneagainstagainstagainstagainst-

Suddenly I'm in front if the wrecked machine – **NO** \- and I look towards the mess of a vehicle. The car is lying on its crushed roof, glass strewn about - 'You did this' - and the feeling of guilt nearly drowns me as I rush over to the scene. I try to call out, but I only feel liquid crimson burst from my lips as I do so. I stumble, and the voice of a child in pain rings out, echoing across the void of this road _ **hell**_. I bring myself back up, and as I open my eyes, I see my hands except they're not my hands. They're small, childlike. I sit up and look further down. My body has shrunk, and I'm wearing plain clothes. There's glass scratching it open revealing spilling meat.

"Kuro?" I hear a dying cry and look up. I'm inside the car. Blood rushes to my head from open wounds and from inside me now that I'm upside-down. In front of me is Hell. I see her face again, only her this time. Her eye is no longer where it should be, leaving only a black hole. She stays unnaturally still and stares at its - **Murderer** \- child. "Ah, there you are." A voice rings out in a sing song voice a parent uses when playing with their children.

"No." I whimper, and more blood flows from my mouth. It slides into my eyes, burning them with hot fury. Hands grab me from behind, and I foolishly look back to see what it is. There's a metal container, its doors wide open, showing the empty blackness of its contents. Five pairs of emaciated, unnaturally long arms reach from within its depths, the skin from them peeling back to reveal thin, twig like bones. The darkness of the container smiles, and the arms pull me towards it.

"I'm sorry." My warbled voice says, and I see that I'm back in my costume. Five pairs of eyes emerge from the container, wild and angry. Veins burst from them and rush to me, piercing my costume. They peel back, and I'm being skinned as the outfit is pulled by them. My muscles are bare to the glass of the car, and it writhes against them. As they're ripped apart, I feel my child-self emerge from them. It crawls from my chest and throttles my neck, black voids where its eyes should be boring into my soul and judging it.

"i **T** **D** oeS **N't** **ma** Tter." The child speaks, and the voices of everyone I've hurt ring around in my head, as if the words are being directly implanted into my mind. " **YoU StIll dId THis.** " The child forces my head backward, and I look back to see the maw of the darkness open around me. It laughs as it brings its teeth down on me, making me scream in agony.

**"no need to scream. this is what you want."**

* * *

** 4/11 Early Morning **

* * *

My eyes shoot open, and a choked scream comes out of my lips. My breath comes out in quick gasps, and I feel a cold sweat forming around my body. Letting out a tired breath, I slowly sit up from the bed, taking a moment to look around. For a second, I don't recognize that I'm in the attic of Leblanc. The feeling of dust coursing against my skin reminds me where I am, and it creates an odd sensation that's akin to mud when it meets my sweat. I let out an annoyed sigh as I put my legs out to the edge of the bed, bringing a hand to wipe my brow and massage my temples. The all too familiar sensation of a headache begins to form, and it only serves to highlight the images of my nightmare. A shaky breath comes from my mouth as I try to clear the hellish scenes from my mind, but all I accomplish is bringing them back to the forefront of my thoughts, repeating in front of my eyes even now.

I slap myself across the face, probably with more force than necessary, and my vision swims with lights. The pain from the action gives me something to focus on, and the sharp stinging is a welcome change of pace from the dull throbbing and invasive visions, allowing me to wake even further. It didn't do anything for my now splitting head, but I could easily deal with that old wound. Blinking in order to get my eyes more into focus, I look back out the window to see how long I was asleep for.

The sight of dark buildings and minimal light is all that greets me. Confused, I peer further outwards form the window to try and see the moon's position in the sky, only to come up short due to the dark clouds that reflect the city's lights. Getting off my bed to grab my phone from my discarded school pants, I tap the screen to see the time.

"Four thirty-seven..." I mumble out in disbelief. It couldn't have been later than twelve when I got back to Leblanc yesterday, at the very least. If I had just passed out like that, that meant I would have slept for about _sixteen hours._ I couldn't even remember the last time I got that amount of uninterrupted sleep, but the most prevalent thought in my mind at that realization was just how much _**time I had wasted.**_ _"Damnit."_ The word forces itself out through gritted teeth, coming out like a rabid snarl. I knew what went on in this city every night, every _day_ , and yet I had just spent all of yesterday afternoon accomplishing nothing!

_**A car horn honking; its driver yells at the drunkard wandering the intersection.** _

_**A sharp smack; two men, fighting in a bar. People cheer and shout as the owner tries to separate them.** _

_**A knife slices through flesh. A man drops, dead instantly from a punctured aorta. His killer drops the weapon and runs.** _

I bring my hand up to my ears in shock, letting out a small scream of pain. Gasping for breath, I try to force the sounds of the early morning from my senses. I had let my guard down, and my powers had responded in kind. Forcing myself to calm down, I put a cap back on them and try to quell my rising anger. The phantom feeling of a sharp intrusion spreads throughout the center of my chest, and I clench my fist around it, trying to close a wound that I knew wasn't there.

I stay there on the edge of the bed for a long while, taking withering breaths to get my nerves under control. I wring a hand through my hair, gripping it in useless frustration, my body tensing and writhing like a spring threatening to burst from the seams. 'There's nothing to do about it now.' I concede to myself, but it doesn't do anything to stop the familiar feeling of worthlessness.

Forcing those thoughts to the back of my mind, I get up and survey my room in order to find something to occupy my time. Remembering that I wanted to continue cleaning, I grab the supplies from where I left it on the bottom of one of the many segmented and tall shelves that populated the attic and set them on the table next to the entrance. My hands reave themselves across the floors and surfaces of the attic, taking out my temper along with the quickly depleting dust and dirt that stained them.

When I had calmed down enough to stop doing that, and to also avert putting a few new holes into the room from the amount of force I put into my arms, I head downstairs to grab a box of garbage bags, then set out to collect the various number of forgotten items that had piled up here over who knows how long. As I finished filling a bag, rather than go through the front door and walk to the back of the building, I simply opened my window, crawled down the wall, opened the dumpster and then threw the bags into it from the attic. The morning smells of the city helped to put my mind at ease, and did wonders for the growing headache I was starting to get, but that was soon overtaken by the odor of the dumpster, nearly making me pass out from how rank it was. I managed to steel through it as I deposited the multiple bags of discarded trash that littered the attic.

Completing that task, and noting the reduced smell and feeling of grinding dust in the air scratching against my skin, I quickly grabbed more cleaning solution and got to work in dispensing with the rest of the remaining attic grime, reaching into the areas that were difficult to normally get to by crawling along the walls. I have to put more force into it in order to get in the various creases of the walls in order to clear them of whatever filth they contained, and I feel like I'm close to putting a few holes in the place with the amount of pressure I'm exerting. Thankfully, I'm able to continue without incident.

As I finish up with the walls that are adjoined to the floor, I jump onto the rafters, making sure to put as little weight as I can onto them. I hesitate when I hear a bit of a groaning noise, but as it subsides, I continue with my task, eventually finishing the rafter I was on and reaching towards the roof of the attic to get it started.

However, as I pressed down on a specific spot of it, a loud groaning noise reverberated throughout the small room. Stopping for a moment to inspect the area, I couldn't see anything to indicate that I had damaged it in some way. Letting my senses reach out, despite the protestations of my body telling me not to, I can tell that the area I pressed on was unlike the rest of the roof above me. It was hollow, but there was a small section of walls that bounced off whatever sounds that came into contact with it. Looking around in the darkness, I soon found a faded latch, and it's only after I pull it that I detect why that's a bad idea.

A cloud of webs and clumped up dust crashed against my face, causing me to cough violently let go of the rafter, which was followed by me hitting my head against one of the shelves as I landed in an undignified heap. As I laid there, hacking up my lungs in a matter akin to a chain smoker and cleaning off the mess that had made home on me, I took a moment to reflect on my current state.

I had such enhanced senses that I could tell the layout of a multi storied building down to the finest detail, allowed me to know where a person had been, what they had eaten, and what they were about to do based on what muscle in their body twitched. I could tell what grains of dust came from where and how long it had been collecting into the same space.

Yet in spite of that all it took to take me out was a small cloud of dust. God help me.

It was honestly a miracle that I have lasted this long at all, if all it took was a bit of dust and reckless stupidity to bring me down. Grumbling at my idiocy, I wiped the last bits of dirt and webs from my face and got back up to inspect what I had found.

The door hanged from the roof, swaying slightly and spreading more dust as it did so. I cover my mouth by bringing my shirt up over it, and climbed back up the wall and peered into the new hole left in the roof. I came upon a small storage area that was covered in filth, and my eyes screamed in protest at having to expose themselves to it, but I managed to ignore the feeling and scanned through this newly discovered area of the attic. There wasn't much room in it, and it was obvious that the place hadn't seen use in some time. Given how dirty it was compared to the room when I first moved in, it wouldn't surprise me if Sakura didn't even know that it existed.

However, all of those thoughts left the forefront of my mind, as I quickly looked over to the box that held my costume. Well, at least my laziness was somewhat productive, as it seems that I had stumbled upon a perfect hiding spot for my ensemble. I peered once more into the forgotten hole in the ceiling, taking a reflexive twitch away when I did so, and immediately got about to cleaning it with a fervor that surprised me. I ignored the feeling of dust sawing off my skin and choking my lungs as I did so, the earlier feelings of anger fading away and fueling my arms as I scrubbed away from my awkward position on the rail. I eventually decided to clamber into the tight storage space, pointedly ignoring the telling sound of creaking wood as it protested under my weight.

By the time I was done, the space was practically gleaming, like it was given a new wax cover by a professional team of cleaners. That was good, because I wouldn't settle for anything less, but when I peered my head from the top of the roof and saw light shining in form the windows, it told me that I had spent a bit too much time in the ceiling of my coffee shop attic room.

I took a moment to reflect on the absurdity of that sentence as I dropped off and picked up my regular phone to see the time. Six twenty-three. Throwing it to my bed, I scrambled downstairs and made sure to grab my wallet from my forgotten school uniform, making my way to the bathhouse. I bid the owner good morning as I put the same payment from yesterday on the counter top, and he gave me a simple hum of acknowledgement. I quickly undressed and scrubbed away the built-up filth that had made home on my body, its removal feeling like I was shedding off an old set of skin.

Drying up so firmly that it felt like I was raking iron mesh across myself, I quickly got changed and spied the clock hanging in the owner's office. Six thirty-nine. Seeing as how I had plenty of time still left, I relaxed from my earlier rush. I took a quick moment to enjoy the smell of the early morning in Yongen-jaya, breathing in the refreshing smell of morning dew from the cold evening evaporating in the air. It helped to bring a calmness to me that I very rarely had the opportunity to experience. So much so that I even let my senses wander for a bit, letting them slowly wash along the surrounding area in a warm embrace.

_**"Hurry son, you'll be late!" A mother calls out, her voice carrying nothing but warmth.** _

_**"Good morning Tokyo! I hope that you've all prepared you're umbrellas cause we're going to be experiencing some light showers later in the day-"** _

_**Spices and sauce mixing together, rice boiling, coffee beans being grinded down into**_ – Wait a second, that was happening just a few feet in front of me, meaning that...

I quickly dashed to the front door of Leblanc and wretched it open, being greeted by the unimpressed visage of Sojiro Sakura. Whatever feelings of calm I had were thrown away as I saw him standing behind the bar of the café, his arms crossed and his head bowed down, eyes closed and mouth in a thin line. He looked up and gave me a questioning glance. For whatever reason, it made me freeze on the spot, as if I got caught doing something I shouldn't have.

A small part of me pointedly noted that, yes, I very much _was_ caught doing something I shouldn't have been.

"Here," he started neutrally as he lightly threw his left arm towards me. I reflexively shot a hand up to catch what he had thrown at me, and the jingling sound it made told me what they were. "You forgot it." He finished with a sigh, sounding like a mix between tired and annoyed.

My body refused to move for a few moments, as realization dawned on me that I had forgotten to lock the door even though I had acquired a pair of keys. True, I did the same thing yesterday, but being caught in the act made it seem more serious than I was treating it. I was brought out of my stupor when Sakura spoke up again.

"Went to the bathhouse I take it?" He asked, but his tone of voice made it obvious he already knew the answer.

I gave a weak "... Yeah," as a response.

"This the only time you've used it?"

"... No. I used it yesterday as well." I answered truthfully, looking down in shame. Sakura let out a hard breath through his nose at that and brought his hand to pinch its bridge.

"When you didn't have a key." He grounded out. He presented a severe glare at me afterwards, the most emotion I've seen out of him since yesterday's episode in traffic. "Look, I've got no problem with you cleaning up after yourself, but don't think you can just sneak out of this place whenever you want, especially when you don't lock up." He pointed at me to emphasize himself, and even though he wasn't yelling, the anger in his voice was strong enough to reverberate throughout the small cafe.

"I'm sorry," was my pitiful reply, and the only one I could offer. I couldn't even look him in the eyes when I said it. Sakura made a sound like he wanted to say something else, but deflated at the last moment and brought a hand up to massage his head.

"I'll let you off the hook this one time, but don't do it ever again." He finished, then pointed upstairs. "Go get changed. Breakfast will be done shortly." I looked up at him in surprise at that, to which he responded with a challenging eyebrow. "Got a problem with free food?"

"N-no." I sputtered out.

"Get a move on then before I change my mind." At that I finally moved, an awkward hurry in my steps as I went up to the attic.

When I got up there, I brought my hand up to look at the keys I had forgotten, and felt nothing but a well of disgust grow in my stomach at my disrespect towards Sojiro Sakura. Even with my misgivings about his attitude, it did nothing to excuse my own towards him. He had taken me in, which was obviously a challenge for him given that he ran a business, and had shown more patience than anyone else likely would have with someone like me. Yet all I had done with that was take advantage of his kindness, leaving his shop unlocked and unattended.

"I'm despicable." The words leave my mouth, and I make sure to feel the bite they give me.

Letting out a tired breath, I lazily got changed into my uniform, welcoming the feeling of cotton trying its best to shear my skin off. Grabbing my wallet, phone, and pocketing the keys, I made my way downstairs. I'm greeted by the growing aroma of freshly made curry, and looking to the bar I can see a steaming plate of it accompanied by a mug of coffee.

"Hurry it up. I've got customers coming soon." Sakura stated tersely. I took a seat and gazed at the plate, its smell embedding itself in my nose. It wasn't unwelcome, and the various spices I could tell were used in it made me realize that I hadn't eaten anything for two days straight.

However, before I could enjoy the plate, I brought my hands up and clasped them together, resting my forehead against them. _'Oh Lord, I thank you for this offering, and ask forgiveness for my actions so that I may earn this gift. Amen.'_ I made the Sign of the Cross after finishing and grabbed the spoon I was offered. I noticed a raised eyebrow from Sakura-san, but ignored it as I prepared myself to eat the meal. I took a breath, readying my mouth for the numbing invasion of spices and flavors it was about to experience.

After the first bite, all of my worry was washed away in a swathe of tastes and sensations that I had never experienced before. My usual concerns with food overwhelming me were dashed, and I can say with certainty that Sakura-san was an excellent cook. I nearly forgot my manners and scarfed down the whole meal in a matter of seconds, but managed to control myself. The food almost tasted just like Yu-

I stopped myself before I could stumble through that line of thought, and the memory of the person I had hurt the most brought my mood plummeting away from my earlier experience.

"Enjoying yourself?" Sakura-san asked with a light chuckle, causing me to look up at him in confusion, thankfully tearing my mind from that previous detour. "You look better compared to yesterday at least." I flinched slightly at the mention of my breakdown, and I looked at Sakura-san with a guarded expression. "Yeah, I noticed. It's why I let you out when you asked." So. He did notice. And now that I knew he let me out of that death trap for my sake, it only worsened my feelings of guilt at the way I had acted towards him. "Mind explaining what that was all about?"

Christ, I couldn't make heads or tails of this man. One moment, he's non-caring and apathetic, the next he's asking if I'm okay after having a near panic attack. I felt my left hand tighten around my leg, and I fumbled around with the spoon in my other hand, trying to find a way to explain what I was going through on the ride back from the school.

"I don't," I started, and Sakura-san's tight posture at how pathetic I probably sounded told me all I needed to know about how sad I must have looked, "like cars." I can hear a car horn blare off in the background of the city, and I quickly get control of my senses to prevent another incident.

"... Okay." That was all Sakura-san said as a reply, and it was probably the first time he sounded so soft towards me. My trembling breath made itself known, and an awkward silence broke out in the café. Sakura-san let out his own tired sigh after a moment, and mumbled to himself, "What a troublesome kid I've taken in."

"Why did you take me in?" I asked before I could stop myself. I looked at him from my seat, and he looked at me, his face scrunching slightly at my sudden question. He scratched the back of his neck for a moment and looked away, as if embarrassed at what his answer was.

"Someone... asked me to. And I just, well, happened to agree to it." He sounded so sheepish as he finished, not even bothering to look at me when he did so. I was left dumbstruck at his reply, not knowing what to make of it. He had just... decided to take me in? For no reason at all? I looked down at the plate of food in front of me, contemplating what I had just learnt.

Sojiro Sakura. The name echoes in the forefront of my mind. He isn't family. He isn't a friend. A man who did his best to appear as uninterested as he possibly could about me and my situation, yet his actions told me that here was another side that he did his best to try and hide. A side that took in a complete stranger for no reason at all. A side that _cared_. My hand idly picked at the curry with my spoon, fumbling bits of food onto it. Food that he gave me in spite of my earlier disrespect towards him. I slowly brought my hand up, readying another bite.

_'Perhaps I was wrong abou-'_

"Besides, I was already paid for it."

I recognize the sound of metal being snapped in half before I feel the hot fury that shoots throughout my body. The remaining bit of broken utensil bends and flattens in my grip as its other half bounces against the bar, spilling food along its surface. Sakura, this _stranger_ , looks at me in shock, his face paling the second his eyes meet mine. I bore my glare into him, and it takes all of my willpower not to jump over the bar and strike him for what he said. He probably thought I was going to do just that given how much he was squirming under the weight of my gaze.

_"I see."_ The words come out like a strained snarl from my mouth, and I shoot out from the stool, snatching my bag from where I left it. Sakura makes an attempt at calling after me, but I ignore him as I wrest the door open and slam it closed. I don't care whether or not I broke the damn thing from the force I put into it, and the people I rush past give me a wide berth when they notice my forceful walk. A local officer even tried to stop me, but at one look to my face he wisely backed off.

_'Because he was_ paid _to. Of course. What else was I expecting?'_ Paid for it. Like I was an unimportant business transaction. Like I was just some product that caught his attention. Just like-

The image of a woman I know begins to impose itself over my eyes, and before I recognize it my fist shoots out to the side on instinct, shattering the brick and mortar it comes into contact with ease. I stay like that for a while, ignoring all of the jumps and startled reactions of the people around me.

"Because he was paid to." I whisper to myself. Paid for it. That's all I was to him. That's all I was to this city. All she was to this city. My fist further grinds into the wall, and my breath comes out with a ragged edge to it. My teeth grind against each other, and the muscles in my neck tighten in anger. I stay there for a moment, letting myself fume and vent. Feeling a prick in my hand, I look to my right and see the wall I had punched into, my hand practically embedded in the concrete.

_**"What's his problem?"** _

_**"He on drugs or something?"** _

_**"Freak."** _

The voices of people passing me by reverberate around me, acting like a judgmental choir that breaks me from my fugue. My hand retracts from the wall, bits of destroyed stone and dust spilling out from the impact center and off of my hand as I massage it. Whatever pain I felt from the action didn't register with me as I stewed in my fury. A wave of shame soon overwhelms those feelings as I walk away from the site of my outburst for letting my anger overcome me like that.

_'Why am I even so upset over him?'_ The question pierces through any other feelings I have at the moment. _'What else was I expecting? For a man who I didn't even know to take me in out of the kindness of his heart?'_

It wasn't even that I was upset for my own sake over the reason Sakura gave me. Honestly, I didn't really deserve anything else. It was only that what he said hit too far close to home for me. It was a reminder of _her_... the one person whose life I ruined just by existing.

…. But that wasn't the whole reason though, even if I didn't want to admit it at the moment. The real reason I reacted so negatively, outside of everything else...

A heavy breath left my lungs, and I rubbed the bridge of my nose in order to stymie my now settled headache as I entered Shibuya Station. I got on the train as it rolled up, and I welcomed the overcrowded car's wave of feelings and sensations on my power as a distraction from this increasingly depressing morning.

* * *

** 4/11 Morning **

* * *

_'Why the hell did I say that?'_ Sojiro Sakura only had Kurokuya Kouzai under his care for three days, and he already felt like he had no idea what he was doing.

He let out a snide laugh at that. "Did I ever know what I was doing?" He asked himself, blowing out a trail of smoke. The café both unfortunately and thankfully had yet to receive its first wave of customers, so he was able to get in a quick bit of relief before the morning commute.

Sojiro liked to think of himself as someone who was able to get a read on someone with only a few interactions. It was a necessary skill to have in the restaurant business, especially with an establishment like a café where interacting with people who were in wildly different moods was a part of everyday work. He thought that he was being smart when he had gotten a hole in the wall spot to open up shop, hoping that the type of people he would interact with would simply mind their business and enjoy the sort of easy silence that came with a location like this.

He wasn't impressed when he found out that wouldn't be the case.

People would come in and talk about anything and everything that was on their minds. How their bosses were riding them at work, that kids these days were too disrespectful, that the weather wouldn't make up its mind. That the world was going crazy and how nobody was doing anything to fix it. The usual. It wasn't that Sojiro was an asocial person. It was just, nowadays, he preferred to mind his own business.

Then she came in.

It was late, and he was just about to get ready to close up when she shambled in, picking the booth that was closest to the door and dropping like a dead sack into it. He felt tempted to say that he was closing to get her to leave, but when he saw how she was holding herself, how she just sat there, making no attempt to order something, like she was doing her best to disappear from the rest of the world... he just couldn't kick her out and feel right about it.

So, he went up to her, asked what she wanted to order, and she looked up at him with the emptiest expression he had ever seen on another human being. Then the tears came, and for once he decided to really listen to someone who came into his shop. He came back with two cups of coffee made from his best beans as she composed herself, and he sat down.

Then she talked about her family, and Sakura went rigid at the cruel irony.

She talked about her brother; how he was born with some sort of illness that caused him pain for his whole life. How after the first bit of good news the family had gotten about the condition, his parents died in a car accident. Then she had to take care of a sick kid on her own, and eventually ran into problems doing so. The type of dress she was wearing, or rather, what _little_ dress there was, told Sojiro enough about what those problems drove her to.

And throughout it all, Sojiro Sakura felt nothing but a rising feeling of guilt in the deepest part of his chest.

Then came the little brother's arrest, and how she felt that everything she had done had been for nothing. How she had failed to take care of the last family she had.

It was that last bit that finally made Sojiro blurt it out. The kid was lucky enough to be put on probation, but there was no one willing to take him in after it was decided that he was going to have to relocate. She was at the end of her rope. And so, he told her that he would take him in. The look of hope in her eyes actually seemed to make them literally light up, as if it was the first act of kindness the poor girl had received in a long time. As he thought back to that moment, it probably was.

Sojiro wasn't expecting that taking care of a delinquent for a year was going to be easy. He knew that he was going to probably get some push back from the kid in the way that all teenagers felt they needed to do against all authority they came across. Especially from this kid, when Sojiro connected the dots of who he was.

Then he met the boy, and he had no idea what to make of him from day one.

"And now I just screwed it up after day three." A cloud of smoke drools out of Sakura's mouth as he speaks to himself, his voice barely above a whisper. He brought a hand up and scratched the back of his head in frustration. "What the hell am I doing?" A wry chuckle came out of his lips a moment after asking that. He thought about who was waiting for him only a couple blocks away and the various ups and downs the both of them went through.

"Yeah. Like I know." Sojiro Sakura put out his cigarette and flicked it into a bin. He got to work on setting up shop for what was looking like to be a slow day, idly noting the rain outside.

"Hopefully he'll have a better day at Shujin."

* * *

**4/11 Morning**

* * *

The train, as was to be expected, is cramped from the morning rush and commute. I manage to ignore today's earlier episode by focusing on the minutiae around me. When that got too overwhelming, I grabbed the student handbook and read it in order to distract me while the train transported me to my destination. Then I finished reading it and was left with nothing to do. Not even the suffocating atmosphere of the train car was enough to keep my attention.

Joy of joys.

I let out a breath through my nose, trying my best to prepare myself for the day to come. While I had no strong feelings towards Shujin or school in general, it was always difficult for me to just sit around all day and feel like I was doing nothing important. My enhanced senses didn't make doing that any easier.

Thankfully, the train stopped at my destination before I could ponder on that thought any further. Stepping onto the platform, I was greeted by the rush of invading sensations from the new environment. A hiss of pain escapes me, as I was usually smart enough to prepare myself for that sort of thing. Guess I was still distracted from today's altercation.

My eyes narrow at the reminder of Sakura's earlier comment. I push my way past all of the crowds in the station, forcing the event to the back of my mind. I wasn't in the mood to dwell on that, and doing so wouldn't do anything to help me at-

_**"Damnit, I forgot my umbrella."** _

The comment from one of the people in the station reaches my ears and causes me to stop for a short moment. _'It's raining?'_ I let my senses expand, and sure enough I can hear the pattering of raindrops outside the station bathing the streets in a sheet of cool humidity. Already I can feel the cold air brushing past my skin, letting me feel a levity from the coarse cotton of the uniform and the stifling train station. Without realizing, I rush to the exit, gently pushing past all of the people in my way.

When I finally run past the last steps, I'm washed in the feeling of little needles of cold drowning out everything else. I stay there a moment, letting my earlier discomfort be replaced by the cleansing rain, basking in the liquid relief.

It was strange. Despite the fact the rain could feel like a hailstorm of glass trying to shear away my skin, I always enjoyed the feeling of it on my body. The little pinpricks of water landing on me, splashing into small particles of water that danced along my body's surface. The cold becoming a blanket from everything else, dulling the entire world from my senses. For the few moments where there was rain, everything felt normal. Everything wasn't so _loud_.

"Hey!" It didn't last, as I'm brought out of my reverie by the voice of a girl calling out to me. I look to my side and see her, her red tights and white sweater immediately standing out. Her hood was up, but I could easily see the blonde hair spilling out from it. "You're gonna catch a cold." She strode out from under the awning of a storefront, grabbing my hand. Her soft skin held mine in a form grip, and a protest forms itself in my throat. Touching was always an unpleasant experience for me, even outside of the fact that whenever I was being touched, it was usually because I was being punched in the face. It was no different here, as despite the well-manicured and cared for hands, the feeling of different chemicals and lotions that populated its surface and the girl's pores felt like a rake against my hand.

I don't say anything to stop her though. It was a sensation that I was well used to by now.

The girl eventually brings me underneath an awning, and soon I feel the enveloping cold of the rain grasp me in a tight embrace. Despite this, I don't shiver, relishing the cold replacing the overbearing rush of stimulus from the crowded underground. She thankfully let's go of my hand, bringing hers to the rim of her hood and pulling it down. Her blonde hair billows out into two pigtails, and her face comes into full view, her white skin being complimented by a pair of soft blue eyes. It takes me a small moment to see that her jacket matches mine, meaning the girl is a fellow student of Shujin.

She turns to look at me, and gives a small smile. I feel an awkwardness rising in my stomach, not knowing what to do next. I look away from her, watching the lessening rain hit the sidewalks. A small huff comes out of her mouth at my response. I feel a pang of guilt at that, and cursed my lack of social graces. Some would think that being able to hear a multitude of conversations happening all around you would be a boon to one's skills at talking to other people. Such was not the case, as I had years of experience to testify to that cold fact.

A horn tears both of us from our unpleasant quiet. The girl jumps, but I look to see a nondescript car idle along the curb, stopping in front of us. The window pulls itself down, and I see the driver's flat face lean over the passenger seat to speak to us. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you." His voice is sickeningly polite, almost sounding staged. My back tenses up at just hearing it, but it takes me looking into the man's eyes to understand why. I recognize them. They're a plain brown, nothing special about them. A color that I've seen countless times before; the kind of eyes that were made to look inviting when you stared into them.

The kind of eyes that when I saw them as a young boy, I walked to the other side of the street to avoid.

"Looks like it'll be coming down pretty hard for a while. Need a ride?" The man asks a question, but I can tell it wasn't directed towards me. I could see his pupils dilate slightly from here, and I could tell what it was they were looking at to elicit that reaction. Who they were looking at.

"Yeah, thanks." I look to the girl out of the corner of my eyes in shock. There was a slight hesitance to her voice as she answered, and it told me all I needed to know. This man was targeting her. This man already knew her. This man was comfortable enough to offer her a ride to school despite, from my point of view, being a complete stranger to her, meaning they had to be within repeated contact in order for that to be acceptable. Then it dawned on me. The only reason something like that would _be_ acceptable to begin with.

This man was a staff member at Shujin.

"You coming?" His controlled voice brings me back from my unsettling revelation, and I look to see that the girl had already entered the passenger seat. Her downcast, uncomfortable expression was enough to inform my next decision.

"Yes." I can feel the man's knuckles tighten slightly on the steering wheel, and the forced smile he gives makes me want to take his car and crush it with him still inside, but I stifle that idea and take position in the back of the vehicle, occupying the seat behind the girl. Her posture is still rigid, but I can feel a little less tension in her body as I buckle in. Whatever apprehensions I feel towards vehicular units is dowsed and lit aflame, and I focus all of my attention on the man. We soon enter back into traffic, and he drives at a sedate pace. I idly see someone from the sidewalk run up to where the vehicle was parked, his yellow shirt contrasting against the black of the Shujin Academy blazer.

_**"Screw that pervy teacher!"** _

"Don't think I've seen you around school before." He speaks, and spies at me through the rearview mirror.

"I'm just transferring in." My voice comes in at its usual monotone, and it takes all of my willpower to keep it like that. Despite his efforts, I could easily see the frustration and thinly veiled contempt behind the man's eyes, and it made my skin crawl and tense in anticipation.

"That's right, that is happening today." He replies in what he probably thought was a cheerfully conversational tone, but I could hear the... _smugness_ in his voice, like he knew the answer to some question that only he was aware of. "Good to see that you're already making some nice friends before even arriving at school."

My hand tightened around my knee, recognizing the tactic he was using immediately. He was marking territory, while reminding his victim of how much control he had over them in order to dissuade any rebellious thoughts, and the slight tightening of the girl's posture told me it was one he used regularly.

"What do you think Takamaki-san, he seem like a nice guy?" I glare at him, and I can feel my hand tense further in my lap. The girl, Takamaki-san, doesn't even bother to look at him as she weakly answers.

"He's fine." A safe, neutral reply. Her voice is barely audible over the sounds of the car and pattering rain outside. A small chuckle came out of the man's mouth at that, and the smile he had made my stomach lurch at how plastic it looked.

"I didn't catch your name." My statement wiped the infuriating expression off his face, and the barest hint of a glare was sent my way through the rearview mirror.

"Suguru Kamoshida. I'm the P.E. teacher at Shujin." He turned to look at me from the side of his eye, and I could easily see the sick perversion hiding behind them and his words as he continued. "Don't think I'll go easy on you just cause you're starting late." I stared back at him, meeting the challenge in his tone with my own impassive and vindictive glare. He waited for a moment, probably expecting some sort of reply.

The only one I gave him was a challenging stare, daring him to slip up in his charade.

"Hmph. Not very talkative, are you?" He turned back to the road, and past him I could see the parking lot of what I could only assume was Shujin Academy itself. "Then again, maybe that'll be a good thing." What the hell did he mean by that?

Kamoshida eventually parks in the lot, and I couldn't get out of the damn car quickly enough. I waited for a moment to see Takamaki-san exit as well, her face scrunched up in a tense expression. "Well, here we are." The disgustingly fake kindness in the gym teacher's voice made it feel like ice was being sent down my spine, and Takamaki-san noticeably deflated at hearing it. He looked to me, and the condescension in his eyes made what he said next replace that earlier ice with infernal rage. "You go on ahead, I'll take Takamaki here to class."

"No." The word was immediate, and the steel tone of my voice made the two of them twitch in shock. Before he could have a chance to reply, I continued. "You'll be busy watching the front gate for straggling students, so I'll take Takamaki- _san_ to class." The extra emphasis I put on the honorific made Kamoshida's eyes widen a fraction, letting him know that I noticed that little mistake he made.

Not referring to someone with an honorific was only reserved for the rude or those closest to the individual being referred to. For a teacher to not use one for a student could only be seen as incredibly inappropriate. I relished the twinging of neck muscles in the man's countenance, both likely from my subtle barb and his annoyance with me interfering with what he considered his. He managed to force another fake smile on himself though, even as he closed his eyes as he replied.

"Well now, aren't you a kind one." He walked away after he spoke, not looking back until he did so again. "Hurry up to class _new kid_." He opened his eye again to look straight at me, and for some reason he actually sounded rather pleased with himself. "Do try and enjoy yourself this year. It can be hard for students transferring in to... adjust." He left the two of us in the parking lot, and the feeling to smash his car to insignificant little pieces of scrap looked more and more appetizing every passing second.

I turned to look at Takamaki-san, and it was obvious that she was beyond rattled to anyone who knew how to look. Despite her best attempts to hide her unease, her posture was tense, and her wide blue eyes were trembling in shock. "Let's go." I speak up, and she blinked in surprise at my bluntness. I walk towards a side door of the school, and I hear the raucous conversations of students bouncing off the hallways of the drab building. Takamaki-san stays rooted to her spot before walking to catch up to me, brushing past me as I hold open the door for her to enter. I watched her as she did so, but she herself refused to look me in the eye. I closed the door behind me, and I was once again left with a feeling of awkwardness at the silence between the two of us as we walked through the halls of Shujin, not knowing what to do in order to broach it.

"Do you even know where the classroom is?" Takamaki-san's tired voice rang out, thankfully breaking the quiet between us with the sudden question. I cast a glance down to her, but she still refused to meet my own gaze, looking forward with an empty look to her features.

"No." I answer truthfully, and she let out a scoff at my response. Honestly, with my enhanced senses I likely could find out where my homeroom was, but I was supposed to meet Kawakami in the faculty room before going to class.

"Then what are you trying to do exactly?" There was a hint of an accusation in her voice this time, and the sudden change in attitude surprised me for a moment.

_'I'm Kurokuya Kouzai. I masquerade as a vigilante who, due to the type of criminal he often faces, am incredibly adept at spotting sexual predators, and as such I'm trying to keep you safe from one who has free access to you since you go to the same school for several hours in the week after just knowing you for ten minutes.'_ God, if only I could just say that. Would make things so much easier. "I just want to help." I offer that up as a meager response, and Takamaki-san's expression sharpens into an annoyed grimace.

"Help with what?" Again with the accusatory voice, and this time I'm truly lost on how to respond. After a moment, it seems that whatever patience she had for me was evaporated she cut in front of me. "Look, I'm not interested in whatever it is you're trying to do, so don't get your hopes up." She turned and walked away, leaving me stunned at how blunt her dismissal. I was left standing there for a few moments, the passing students in the hall brushing past me giving no attention to the scene that transpired.

With nothing else to do, I started to trudge towards the third floor, preparing myself for the rest of the school day.

_**"Isn't that him? What's he doing with Takamaki?"**_ My attention is caught by a pair of girls behind me down the hall, but I continue through the school.

_**"Eww, does that mean they're together?"** _

_**"But wouldn't that mean she's cheating on Kamoshida?"**_ At that sentence, my blood runs cold and I stop where I am on the stairs, accidentally causing someone to bump into me. I'm too distracted to offer an apology.

_**"Hah, not surprising. This is Takamaki we're talking about. Totally like her to do it with a criminal."** _

….

I continue to walk to my destination, and the more I do so, the more and more unease I feel in the put of my stomach.

Why did I get the feeling that something more horrible than I once assumed was going on at this school?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note:
> 
> Hello people of AO3! For those of you reading who are curious as to the quick update rate of this work, I'm crossposting this on Fanfiction.net and Spacebattles, so don't get your hopes up too high for a fast updating work. While I am working on it, do note that I first posted this on Spacebattles, but this third chapter isn't on it cause I haven't touched that thread in almost a year.
> 
> Yeah. I'm a procrastinating prick. God help me.
> 
> But, as I said, I am working on it (the 4th chapter is coming along nicely), and all I can hope is that you lovely people enjoy yourselves with what it available.
> 
> Hope to see you till the end.


	4. New Friends

* * *

**4/11 Morning**

* * *

****I try my best to stifle a yawn while standing at attention next to Kawakami. For whatever reason, I had trouble getting to sleep last night. My mind does its best to convince me that it’s due to all of the responsibilities as Student Council President piling up; clubs needing their budgets adjusted, the undone prep for the upcoming volleyball rally. That wasn’t anything new for me though, and it certainly wasn’t anything I couldn’t deal with. I think back to yesterday, Sae’s annoyed look as she handed me the phone that afternoon flashing in front of me, as well as the conversation that followed.  
  
 _‘Meet with the new student. Help him to adjust. Like I was just meeting some regular old student.’_ It’s not that I was against introducing a new person to the school, especially if they were starting a little late. It’s just who said person _was_ that was cause for concern on my end. _‘Kurokuya Kouzai.'_ The oddly familiar name rings out in my head, and a part of me can’t help but feel just a bit of childish giddiness at how close it sounded to one of the names in my favorite yakuza film. That stray thought soon devolved into a mental tangent on what kind of delinquent Kurokuya actually was.  
  
Is he dangerous? He assaulted someone, so it was a safe assumption. Even so, did that mean he was generally violent? Unstable? The image of a boy, tall and all muscle with ripped off sleeves, tattoos cascading down his tanned, exposed arms with a murderous glare in his eyes imprints itself in my mind’s eye, and despite my more rational side telling me how silly it was, I couldn't help but think that it would fit. My imagination continues to run wild, and soon the images distort into one of a hunched over wallflower, Kurokuya’s sleeves edging past his hands to hide drag marks, and then again into him standing in the courtyard, a pile of students on the grass with one still being held by the collar in his hands, with me rushing in to-  
  
 _‘Focus up Makoto.’_ Giving my head a slight shake and taking a deep breath, I force all of those childish ideas out, slapping myself lightly on the cheeks as I do so.  
  
“Nervous?” Kawakami-sensei's slight chuckle acts as a welcome distraction, and I look to her, blushing slightly at my little display.  
  
“Not at all sensei. Just a bit tired. I know it’s a bad excuse, but I had some trouble getting to sleep last night.” Which, I note, was _exactly_ because I was more nervous than I wanted to admit.  
  
“Oh, believe me. It's an excuse.” She snorts out, probably to herself more than anything given how she was looking to the side. Even with just a quick glance, I can easily spot the beginnings of bags forming under her eyes. She straightens herself out and hurriedly adds, “Don’t worry about him. He seemed harmless enough when we met.”  
  
The reassurance manages to calm me down enough to say, “What was he like, if you don’t mind me asking?” At this, Kawakami makes a quizzical look, scratching the back of her head.  
  
“He didn’t say much, so I don’t really know how to describe him.” She looked off to the side, her face scrunching in thought. “He should be here soon, so you’ll get an idea of what I mean.” The non-answer doesn’t do much to dissuade my worries, but it is enough to stop any more idle daydreaming on my part.  
  
“I look forward to meeting him.” Putting aside any fantasies and other delusions, I straighten up and fully prepare myself for the task at hand. Indulging in stuff like that was unbecoming of me, and I feel slightly embarrassed at doing so. All I was asked to do was just show someone else what the school was like and that’s it. After it was finished, I could focus on more important things, like preparing for what college I would be going to. Nothing to get excited over.  
  
The door to the faculty office is pulled open, causing both of us to turn towards it, and then I see him. Kurokuya Kouzai. I was thankful that he didn’t match up to any of the images my sleep deprived brain conjured up, and it helped to further divorce any preconceived notions I had.  
  
“Kouzai-kun. You actually showed up.” Kawakami spoke up, sounding oddly disappointed. Kouzai looks to her, a slightly confused furrow showing on his dark eyes hidden behind his wet, shoulder length brown hair.  
  
“Why wouldn’t I show up?” His voice is shockingly soft, yet no less clear as he brings a hand up to move his hair out of the way, water dribbling down his face, giving it a slight glimmer from the lights of the office. I get a better look at him, his soaked locks framing his slim, yet sharply defined features. His eyes settle on me for a moment, and whatever thought processes I have crash and burn in a smoldering heap.  
  
 _‘This is it?’_ I was suddenly very aware of my heartbeat, and a warm feeling settled on top of my ears as I watched him walk up to the teacher’s desk. His barely fitting, wet uniform moves in a way that emphasizes his form as he does so, accenting every curve of his deceptively well-toned body.  
  
“Why are you so wet?” Kawakami’s annoyed question acts like a shot to the foot, causing me to jolt back to reality from.... whatever that tangent was.  
  
“It was raining. I didn’t have an umbrella.” He stated, no emotion in his answer as he stopped in front of the desk, and again our eyes meet. It was at that point I noticed how tall he was, actually having to slightly crane my neck back to properly meet his gaze. His black eyes bored into me, and for some reason a twinge of nostalgia blasts through my spine at the strangely familiar sight.  
  
“You couldn’t find somewhere to wait it out?”  
  
“I like the rain.” The blunt simpleness of the reply left Kawakami flatfooted, and she brought a hand up to pinch her nose as she took a sharp inhalation of breath.  
  
 _‘This is Kurokuya Kouzai?’_ My brain tries its best to fire off anything that could describe him, but all that came back were shorted out sparks of malfunctioning equipment. _‘He doesn’t look like a delinquent at all. He looks...’_ His black eyes refocus on me, and suddenly I’m not at Shujin.  
  
I’m alone in a white hallway. Cheap electric lights that always manage to give me a headache illuminate the depressing colors that cover walls populated with informational anatomy posters or misplaced pictures of beautiful landscapes. My hands are on my ears, trying their best to block out a stream of unpleasant words and sounds that I now only associated with bad memories. Tears do their best to edge their way out of my shut eyes, accented by my choked whimpers.  
A hand rests itself on my head, giving me comforting pats. It's too small to be my father’s or sister’s, and the sudden contact makes me slightly twitch in surprise. I look up, and see the brightest blue eyes I’ve ever seen looking at me, a reassuring smile on their occupant’s face.  
  
I’m back in Shujin, and the upsetting mental imagery makes me stand completely still. Kurokuya’s empty black eyes look down on me, not one emotion showing on his visage.  
  
 _‘.... Familiar.’_  
  
“Anyway,” Kawakami’s voice snaps me back to the present, “this is Makoto Niijima, the Student Council President.” He beats me to a reply, bowing slightly as he spoke.  
  
“Nice to meet you.” Again, with no emotion. I regain enough of myself to reply.  
  
“It’s very nice to meet you as well, Kouzai-kun.” There are no breaks in my voice as I bow in return, despite the fact it felt like it was taking concentrated effort on my part to not show how off balance I now was from the intrusive memories.  
  
“Now then,” Kawakami continues, clapping her hands together in a single motion, “I’ve asked Niijima here to help tutor you-”  
  
Say what now? I practically shoot up from my bowed position, looking at the teacher in shock. “What?”  
  
She looks to me, brows furrowed. My throat locks, that outburst surprising me. It wasn’t like me to act so unprofessional. “I asked you to help him out with adjusting to school. Tutoring him would help raise his grades and go a long way to help with that, and considering your own academic record I figured you’d be the best person for the job.”  
  
 _‘Then why didn’t you mention it until now?'_ I manage to keep a grimace from showing on my face at the fact I had yet _another_ thing to do on top of all of the other work I had. Taking a quick breath to calm myself down, I turn to face my new responsibility. His seemingly standard non-expression was still present. _‘Relax Makoto. It's nothing you can’t handle. You're just annoyed because you’re tired.'_ The previous hospital imagery flashes in my eyes for a brief moment. _‘That’s it. That’s all it is.’_ “I’m sorry for my outburst Kouzai-kun. Please accept my apology.”  
  
He doesn’t reply, and his passive face honestly starts to get on my nerves a bit. It made it impossible to tell what he was thinking. The idea of kicking him in the shin to elicit a reaction flashes through my mind, but I ignore the stray thought. Eventually he turned away and addressed his homeroom teacher.  
  
“Is this arrangement really necessary?” My heart feels like it dive bombs into my stomach at the words, and a small choking sound comes out of my throat. Kawakami is less than impressed on her end.  
  
“Niijima-san agreed to take the time out of her own studies to help you Kouzai-kun. Can’t you at least seem somewhat appreciative?” The words sound harsher than they I thought they should be, and I wonder if the reason Kouzai disagreed was because I had upset him with the way I reacted earlier. It would be perfectly understandable if that was the case.  
  
“That’s what I mean.” Huh? “As Student Council President, she is likely busy with more important tasks. I wouldn’t want for her to waste her time on me.”  
  
…. What?  
  
I stood there, not comprehending what he had just said. How _casually_ he said it. Like it was fact. Kawakami doesn’t share my reaction, letting out a sigh it seemed like she had been holding in for a while.  
  
“While that’s very considerate of you, the fact remains that I asked her to help you out and she agreed to do so.” She levels a hard look at him, but before she has a chance to continue, the morning bell rings. Kouzai brings a hand to his ear, letting out a slight wince. I only barely notice the pained look to his eyes. “We’ll have to talk about this later.” Kawakami stands from her desk, her annoyance clear.  
  
“Uh,” I stammer out, dignified, bringing both of their attention onto me. “If it’s any help, the two of us can discuss it in the library after school on our own.” I rush the words without really considering them, feeling a desperate need to try and salvage this failed meeting. The two of them look to me, seeming to consider it. Kawakami looks to Kouzai, raising her eyebrow.  
  
“Would that be acceptable for you, Kouzai-kun?” Her voice is laden with exasperation, clearly wanting this conversation to end. Kouzai looks to me, and this time I can’t help but wilt. I don’t know how, but his eyes gave the effect that they weren’t really looking at me but straight through me. Like they were judging every aspect of who I was. His passive expression only made it look like whatever he saw, he wasn’t impressed.  
  
“.... Yes.” Kouzai concedes, turning away and walking to the door. Kawakami quickly catches up to get ahead of him, and I can hear her mutter under her breath.  
  
“Why did _I_ have to get saddled with this?”  
  
My back tightened at seeing a teacher show clear contempt at having to help a student. I started to follow after them, and the trek to Kouzai’s homeroom is made in silence. The few students still in the hallways hurry to their classrooms.

“-it’s him.” A lone comment, quiet to make seem like it was whispering but still loud enough to hear, catches my ear.  
  
“The guy who assaulted someone?” My head turns towards the pair of gossiping students so quickly that I hear a small pop in my neck. They notice me and quickly rush down the hall.  
  
 _‘How do they know that?’_ Kouzai’s record was supposed to be confidential. The only reason I knew was because Kawakami told me before I agreed to help him so I would be fully informed. As the three of us continue towards the second year’s floor, it becomes evident that Kouzai’s record is the new topic of conversation amongst the student body.  
  
“Don’t get too close to him, he’ll stab you!”  
  
“Man, he’s tall! You think he’s on steroids?”  
  
“Probably, I heard he beat up some guys who tried to take his stash.”  
  
A part of me found it ridiculous how quickly the rumors jumped from assault to drug dealing, but then I remember my own earlier fantasies and a wave of shame settles in my mind. I look down at the ground as we continue to walk through the halls, doing my best to ignore the baseless comments and barbs. Their minds had already been made up without even knowing Kouzai. _My_ mind had already been made up. As we reach his homeroom, I can only guess how this breach of privacy is making him feel. We stop at the door, and I look up to see....  
  
Nothing. His face hadn’t changed one iota. His black eyes reflected no anger, sadness, betrayal. He was empty.  
  
“Thank you for help, Niijima-san.” I look at Kawakami. Even she looked distressed by the rumor mill we had walked through, and her voice had a tremble in it. “You should be getting to class.” I only nod at the dismissal and look back to Kouzai. I immediately bow in order to avoid his eyes.  
  
“Good luck, Kouzai-kun.” Despite forcing myself to sound at least a little casual, the words ring hollow in my ears.  
  
“Have a nice day.” His reply is in that same distant tone, soft yet clear. I turn away, not being able to look back at him.  
  
As I walk back to my own class, the various speculations and theories of Kouzai follow me, acting like a sick chorus reminding me of my own selfish judgments towards him. My heart feels as though it’s fumbling around, trying to find some answer that can make sense of the situation. So, I do what I trained myself to be the best at for the past three years, and set my mind to provide one.  
  
Kurokuya Kouzai was convicted of assault and put on probation, being sent to Shujin Academy under said probation. The information regarding his record was supposed to be confidential under Japanese law, with newspapers and any other form of news media being forbidden to show anything regarding the trial, offence, age, or any other personal matters about the accused to the public eye. The only personnel who were allowed to be aware of it are any legal guardians or decided upon individuals that would be responsible for him. As such, the fact that the student body was aware of his record seemingly before he was even present on campus implied some form of incompetence or outright negligence on the part of the staff.  
  
However, that would then imply that whatever way Kouzai-kun's information was leaked was in part due to the actions or inaction of a member of the staff, which sent alarm bells ringing off in my head. There was only so many ways something like that was possible, and none of them painted a kind picture of Shujin’s teachers.  
  
I stop where I am in the hall, my eyes narrowing. One part of me wanted to dismiss that circumstantial claim, not believing that an adult would purposefully want to bring harm or embarrassment to one of their own students, people they were supposed to be _responsible_ for. Kawakami’s evident frustration with the situation, while worrying, didn’t make me believe that she would do that. Then again, concerning some of the rumors about the staff I’ve heard on my end....

My mind eventually peters to a halt, the day’s earlier tiredness and lethargy coming back to the forefront. A heavy sigh escapes my lips, my shoulders slumping in resignation. _‘How did something like this happen? More importantly...’_ A feeling that I can’t recognize begins to settle over me, crushing every part of my body in a sense of listlessness and defeat. _‘What can I do to help?’_ Kurokuya Kouzai’s blank eyes flash before mine, and at that moment I felt so... so...  
  
“Can you believe that the school accepted someone with a record?” I look to the side, the action feeling like it was weighed down by iron bars. A fellow third year girl is talking with her friend, not noticing me.  
  
“I know, right? My parents are pissed.” I can feel my hands ball up, nails pressing into my palms.  
  
“They should just throw him out. Someone like that doesn’t belong here.” Whatever was weighing me down before is thrown off me, and I feel my chest swell with a burning passion I haven’t felt in a long time.  
  
“Excuse me.” My voice is firm, commanding. The two girls look to me in surprise, and I strut over to them, my persona as the responsible Student Council President easily sliding into place. I stop in front of them, their expressions faulting at my hard glare. “Class is in session. I suggest you get to your homeroom instead of indulging in childish rumors.” It isn’t a request, a firm reminder, or a kind suggestion. It’s an order.  
  
“Y-yes miss president!” They turn and run down the hall, quickly ducking into one of the rooms. I feel a smirk settle on my face, before shifting back into my usual calm mask. I continue towards my own room, my steps confident and resolute.  
  
 _‘Kurokuya Kouzai.’_ The name rings out in my mind, and the strange feeling of familiarity only helps to steel my decision. _‘I’ll do my very best to help you. It's the least I can do to make up for believing the worst in you.’_ As I entered my own class, I didn’t notice the feeling of my mouth curving up into a smile. One that I knew on some level I hadn’t shown in a long time.  
  
 **\----------------------------  
  
4/11 Morning  
  
\----------------------------**  
  
As I watch Niijima walk away, I can't help but feel a sense of guilt. I could tell how tense she was during the entire meeting, and given the current topic of conversation among the student body concerning my criminal status, it isn’t hard to figure out why. Having to be responsible to a supposed assaulter was too much for most adults to deal with, let alone a teenage girl. The comments from the other students would have been no help in calming any worries she would have had.  
  
I'd apologize for making her uncomfortable after school, and explain to her that I couldn’t accept the offer of her tutelage to assuage her concern. Seeing as how she wasn’t aware of that part in her arrangement , it likely wouldn’t be difficult. Besides, considering what I needed to do every night, having an engagement at school would be detrimental to say the least.  
  
“Listen,” Kawakami speaks up, and I turn to look at her, “when you introduce yourself, just keep it simple, alright? Don't say anything unnecessary.”  
  
"…. What should I say?” I didn’t understand what she meant by unnecessary. It was just an introduction, what else was there to say? She gives me an odd look, and lets out a strained sigh as she turns to open the door.  
  
“Let’s just get this over with.” She walks into class, with me quickly joining her. The moment I was visible to the rest of the room, the whispers and conversations go dead, and the whiplash from loud to quiet sets me on edge.

“Settle down.” Kawakami goes to her podium at the front of the room, and I grab a piece of chalk, writing my name out on the board in large kanji. 黒夜 光在. “This is Kurokuya Kouzai. He's going to be transferring in from today onward.” She looks to me. “Go ahead and introduce yourself.”  
  
I look at the room, the rigid and expectant faces of my peers boring into me. My attention is immediately grabbed by a spot of blond hair at the back of the room near the windows, and I see the bored face of Takamaki looking out them. She turns her eyes for a moment to look at me, and her eyes narrow in what I can only guess is annoyance before she looks back outside.  
  
“I’m Kurokuya Kouzai.” My earlier warning comes to the forefront of my mind, and I quickly search for what would be an appropriate thing to continue with. I settle for a bow and, “It’s nice to meet all of you.” I rise up, looking to Kawakami for some form of confirmation. She doesn’t look back.  
  
“It’s him, the one on the school forum.”  
  
“Why’s he so wet?”  
  
“You think he’s got a knife on him?”  
  
“Jeez, he’s ripped! Think he’s got a bunch of scars?” A darkly ironic thought comes to my mind at that comment. While I had some close calls with some knives, with my healing factor, I did not, in fact, have any scars.  
  
The rest of the class further devolves into more and more outlandish theories and ideas about my record, each one more extreme than the last. One was that I had a fight the boss of my gang, one that I had the fight with the boss of a rival gang, that I had a fight with both of the gangs, some combination of the three. The ironic thing was that they were honestly somewhat true, from a certain point of view. They just weren’t aware of the true context.  
  
“Uhm, so...” Kawakami seems at a loss on what to do, and quickly looks at the empty desk behind Takamaki. “Your seat will be that one, behind her.” I can see from here that Takamaki rolls her eyes at the decision. I walk over, sitting down and preparing myself for the rest of the day.  
  
“I saw those two in the hall together. You think they’re dating?”  
  
“That would mean she’s cheating on Kamoshida!”  
  
Again with that accusation, and I didn’t need enhanced senses to see Takamaki stiffen up. I look to the front of the room to see if Kawakami had heard it, but she was too busy preparing today’s lesson.  
  
Usually, the difficult thing about school for me was just sitting for hours in one place while hearing the world outside of it. Forcing myself to listen to lessons while hearing someone’s heart give out from overdosing, feeling a man getting broken bones and bruising welts in an alleyway for money owed, etcetera. With Shujin Academy, it seemed that wouldn’t be the case, as now I would have to stomach listening to ignorant children shame a girl for being targeted by a sexual predator from only a few feet away.  
  
Fantastic. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the only issue.  
  
“Everyone, please rise.” A boy with a blue hue to his hair speaks up so quietly from the center of the room that even I could barely hear him. When he gets up from his chair, he has to put his arms on his desk in order to help lift himself, and I can see numerous bandages on his arms and the formation of a bruise eking out from the collar of his gym uniform, and that wasn’t even getting into the fading black eyes he spotted on his face. It was obvious to me, given my own experience in delivering and receiving those kinds of bruises, how they could have been acquired.  
  
After we sat down from morning roll call, he cast a quick glance at me before he just as quickly looked back to the front after noticing me looking at him. I brought a hand to my face, rubbing my eyes in order to stymie the encroaching headache I knew was coming.  
  
I had been in Shujin Academy for barely twenty minutes, and already I had stumbled onto the disturbing conclusion that one of their staff members was a sexual predator, the rest of the staff was oblivious, the student body equally so, and that another student was likely being abused by said individual.  
  
Not the best first impression.  
  
 _‘Well, it won’t be much of a problem from tomorrow onwards.’_ The resolute thought settles into my mind, acting as a barrier to anything that could distract me from the lesson. I looked up, and Takamaki was still as stiff as before, too busy trying her best to not pay attention to the insults and shaming the class was slinging her way. _‘I won’t let him hurt you anymore, Takamaki. I won’t let him hurt_ anyone _anymore.’_  
  
Kawakami begins her lesson, and the rumors continue in hushed whispers despite her best attempts at silencing them. After a while, she simply ignores them while teaching us about themes and motifs about classic Japanese literature. I only have the scantest of interest in it. Discerning expression through writing has never been a strong point of mine.  
  
After a while, class ended, and Takamaki practically shot out of her chair and through the doors before anyone else had a chance. I made a move to follow after her but was stopped by Kawakami calling me to her desk. “So,” she started, sounding unsure, “how’re you doing so far?”  
  
 _‘Considering what I've found out about your place of work, not well.’_ “I’m fine.” The response comes out easily enough, but she doesn’t look convinced. I quickly add, “Thank you for asking.” I didn’t want to be rude, but I have more important things to deal with at the moment. She looks at me strangely for a moment, blinking. Did I say something wrong? She straightens up before she speaks again.  
  
“Look, about your record....” She crosses an arm over her chest, rubbing her other arm in clear discomfort. “I don’t know how everyone found out about it, but I didn’t tell anyone other than Niijima-san.”  
  
I tilted my head in confusion at what she said. “Why would I think it was you who told them?” A teacher wouldn’t do something like that to their own students, so why was Kawakami so worried?  
  
…. Wait a moment. The only people at this school who would know about my records are members of the staff, hence Kawakami’s worry that I would suspect her. Meaning that in order for it to be leaked, one of the teachers would’ve had to be either irresponsibly negligent or outright criminally so in handling my personal matters. And there was one man here who would qualify for that latter category. My eyes narrowed, and I bowed to Kawakami before I turned to leave the room. “Thank you for your concern, sensei.”  
  
“Wait,” I suppress the flicker of annoyance and turn to look back at her, my hand clutching the handle, “what they’re saying doesn’t bother you?”  
  
“No.” Why would the opinions of people I don’t know bother me? I turn and leave the room. “Have a good day.” Kawakami doesn’t respond as I close the door. I look down the hall, and even without my senses I can see nearly every student turn their attention towards me before quickly looking away.  
  
 _‘So, Kamoshida likely exposed my criminal status to the student body.’_ It only took me a moment to understand why he would do something so petty. It was a commonly held belief that criminals who possessed extreme inclinations utterly detested changes to their environment, as it added an uncontrollable factor to their everyday routine, which they interpreted as a threat. The unknown factor isn’t as easily controllable compared to what they’re used to, so they act irrationally in order to retain a semblance of it. This idea, however, I always found to be a bit too easily applied to the extreme types of criminal. All of them despised change, because change brings unforeseen risk.  
  
A part of me felt oddly bemused by that. Kamoshida had yet to even meet me, yet already saw me as such a threat to his life that he decided to leak my information to the school in order to vilify me. _'Help yourself, Kamoshida.’_ I barely noticed the small scowl that came on my lips as I entered my next class. ' _You’ll soon find your fears justified, just not the way you expected.’_  
  
 **\-------------------------  
  
4/11 Afternoon  
  
\-------------------------**  
  
I remembered to prepare myself before the final bell rang, and the loud electronic buzz only managed to feel like an airhorn going off in my skull this time. Closing my books and exiting the room, I went as quickly to the entrance as I could.  
  
“You think he’s gonna get expelled?”  
  
“I hope so. He seriously creeps me out.”  
  
 ** _“You going to pick a fight with the new guy?”  
  
“You crazy? I don’t want to get killed!”_**  
  
I felt utterly confused with their fascination with me. What was so special to talk about? I had a criminal charge, that isn’t something to be proud of, let alone worthy of polite conversation. I ignored them as best as I could walking down the hall.  
  
 ** _“Why on earth would you let someone like that come here? At this point, it’d be useless how much I contribute to this school.”  
  
“Now don’t be like that. A steady build up is necessary for people such as Kouzai.”_**  
  
Ignoring things has never been one of my strong suits, unfortunately. However, in this case, I didn’t mind as much. Taking a stop at the turn of the stairs, I leaned my back against the wall and crossed my arms, listening to Kobayakawa and Kamoshida having their conversation in the former’s office.  
  
 ** _“Your troubles never seem to end, do they Principal?”  
  
A small chuckle, meant to sound good natured. “Of course not. That is to be expected for a school like Shujin. We must strive for excellence above all else.”  
  
A laugh, meant to sound accommodating. “Well then, in that case I'll do my best to answer your expectations of me.” Kamoshida moves to leave. Hand rests on the door. Muscle's rigid. “By the way, if the new kid causes any trouble, don’t hesitate to send him my way. I'll be sure to put him in his place.” Voice is tense, restrained. Yet there is eagerness.  
  
“Of course, Kamoshida-san. I can always count on you to handle troublesome elements.” Back tight. Hands are folded, but tense. Heart rate slightly elevated._**  
  
My hand clenches against my arm hard enough that I hear bone creak in protest. So, Kobayakawa knows. His tight posture and elevated heart rate meant he was nervous about what was being said. Whether that meant he was implicit in the abuse or incapable of dealing with it remained to be seen. Considering my suspicions for him accepting me, I was more inclined to believe the former.  
  
 _‘And this is the place that means to rehabilitate me?’_ I couldn’t help but note a twisted irony to that idea. Shaking my head, I continued down the stairs and into the foyer, ignoring any other sounds from the school as best I could. Opening the door that held my regular shoes, I noted a piece of paper falling to my feet. Strange. I picked it up and noted how crumpled it was, unfurling it. The writing on it looked as if it was written by a madman in a cell.  
  
 _MEET ME ON THE ROOF._  
  
…. Okay. I folded it up and deposited it in the paper bin at the front, walking out the doors and towards the train station. _‘I know some of the students want to take a shot at the scary transfer student, but they could at least be more subtle about it.’_ Regardless, I had more important things to do than to indulge teenagers. First, I needed to come back here and see if I could find out where Kamoshida lived on the school records. While I could just use my senses to locate him, I hadn’t been around the man long enough to feel confident about finding him with just my powers. Regardless, I had to get back to the café and-  
  
…. Ah. Yes. That’s right. The café. _Him._  
  
I hurried my pace back to my temporary residence, and it took all of my willpower not to simply go and find Kamoshida right now, outfit and preparations be damned.  
  
 _‘The day just keeps getting better and better, doesn’t it?’_  
  
 **\----------------------------------  
  
4/11 Early Evening  
  
\---------------------------------**  
  
  
The sky is already a bright orange and purple by the time I get back to Leblanc, and a part of me thinks I should just crawl up the wall and enter through the window to my room rather than go through the front. Today's discoveries had not done my mood any favors, and returning here to this man was simply salt in the wound.  
  
Letting out a tense breath through my nose, I grasp the handle to the door and walk inside, not stopping for a second to even spare him a glance. I idly note a woman with a leather jacket and blue dress sitting at the bar. He looks to me, grimacing.  
  
“So how was-”  
  
“Fine.” I cut him off, and whatever else he might have said dies in his throat. I didn’t have any patience to deal with him right now.  
  
 ** _“He lives here?” A voice, soft yet firm. The woman.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Seems real friendly.”  
  
“It’s... complicated.” Sounds withdrawn._**  
  
Reaching my room, I ignore the downstairs conversation and throw my bag onto my bed, immediately grabbing my costume from the box it was in as well as a duffel bag I could carry it with. Stuffing all of my essentials I got changed into the under layer of my costume. One of its benefits was that they were nothing more than simple workout clothes, so I could wear them outside and not look suspicious whatsoever. Securing everything I had, I walked back downstairs and headed for the door.  
  
“Where are you-”  
  
“Out.” I didn’t bother to listen to whatever protests he might have had and exited the place, and once I turned a corner, I bolted into the nearest alley I could find and jumped between buildings onto a roof, ducking behind an AC unit. Unzipping the bag, I changed into the rest of my ensemble, switching out the black workout pants for the white of my costume. Sliding my web shooters onto my wrists, I checked the ammunition of the cartridges and in my belt. Still enough to last for tonight and maybe even tomorrow if I'm conservative with them, but I needed to find an alternative to the place I used to go to for the chemicals needed to make my web fluid. I learned that the store had unfortunately closed down during the period I had yet to be charged.  
  
Putting aside that concern for the moment, I took off the vent cover of the AC unit and detached the handle of the bag, wrapping it around a broken section of it, then put it back in place so it would hang from the inside of the vent. Satisfied with my hiding spot, I sharply turned around and sprinted to the edge of the roof, before quickly shooting off like a spring from it and soaring through the cool air of Tokyo. I took a moment to enjoy the feeling of the wind pelting against my body in a continuous stream of cold before I fired off a web and began to trek back to Shujin Academy. If Kamoshida was there, I'd deal with him as soon as possible. If not, I'd hack into his personal files and find his place of residence.  
  
 ** _“Hey, my purse!”_**  
  
I detached from my web and spun in the air, looking down to the street I was perpendicular to. With my enhanced vision, I quickly spotted a purse-snatcher running from a woman he bowled over, her handbag clutched under his arm, pushing people out of the way.  
  
Never a moments rest.  
  
Twisting my body to face the street, I shot out a web line at an angle that would allow me to easily swing just above the heads of the startled pedestrians. As I descended, I grabbed a higher section of web and yanked upwards, bringing my lower body up and wrapping a leg around my web, pointing my feet towards the sky. Reaching out with one hand, I grabbed the back of the thief and threw him upwards on the rising arc of my swing. He let out a yelp as he was flung into the air, and as he spun towards me, I snatched the purse form his hands, and took my other hand off my web line, using my leg to keep me attached to it and shot a web to the man’s chest, quickly sticking him onto a light post he was close to and leaving him dangling back and forth as he fell towards the ground.  
  
Bringing a hand back to my line, I unhooked my leg and swung back towards the victim, bringing my feet against the sidewalk to slow my approach towards her. A crowd had formed around the scene, yet they all parted away as I came closer until I eventually stopped in front of the woman, flinching back as I came within arm's reach. I held out my hand.  
  
 **“Your purse.”** She flinched again at hearing my distorted voice, and shakily held out a hand to grab her bag.  
  
“Th- thank you.” She mumbled out, not even looking like she knew what she was saying.  
  
“ **Hm.”** I noticed a scuff on her head from when the thief pushed her over, and took a moment to grab a collection of bills and pressed them into her hand. **“For any damages.”** I didn’t give her a chance to refuse, yanking on my still held web line, going back into the air and shooting out another line to gain some speed.  
 ****

 ** _“Can I get some free money?”_**  
  
That almost brought a laugh out of me, but I stamped it out as I continued to my destination. That little detour took longer than I thought it did, as the sun was now almost completely set on the horizon. Not wasting any more time, I hastened my rush to Shujin, not bothering to stop for anything else.  
  
By the time I landed on the edge of a building overlooking the school, stars were beginning to show in the sky, and the last embers of the sun were slowly fading. Noticing some lights still being on in the building, I grabbed my work phone and tapped the screen, the time reading five after six. Were club activities still going on, and if so, did they usually continue this late?  
  
Putting that aside, I considered my approach. Shujin had the unfortunate fact of being surrounded by buildings that were far taller than it, meaning that if I were to jump from the one I was on to its own roof, I'd likely alert anyone still at the school from the impact. Speaking of which, I let my senses wash over the building, listening for anyone that could still be there. All I got were the lone few janitors that were on each floor.  
  
Satisfied with my search I looked over to the building that was across from mine and behind Shujin, an idea forming in my mi-  
 ** _BANGBANGBANGBANGBANG-_**  
  
My head whipped around so fast that I was certain I gave myself whiplash, and I nearly lost my footing on the edge, bringing my hand to embed itself in the concrete to keep myself in place.  
  
That.... that was _gunfire._ The thin eyes of my mask were probably as wide as they could get, and I felt a cold sweat break out over my body. For as long as I could reasonably use this power, the number of times I had heard a gunshot of any kind could be counted on both hands, and only just. And what I just heard wasn’t the sound of a single shot from a standard police revolver, but undoubtedly from a machine gun.  
  
Focusing as best I could, I released the cap I had over my senses, and forced myself to take in all of the various sounds of the city.  
  
 ** _Car backfiring, hitting a pothole.  
  
Glass breaking from dinner table, baby crying.  
  
Music blaring, drugs flowing through bloodstream.  
  
“What the fuck are you doing?! You want the cops to crash in here?!” _**There. I focused on the area as best I could, spying on that conversation.  
  
 ** _“Relax, this place is abandoned. Besides, we put up sound panels beforehand. Also, we need to make sure your shipment is up to our standards.”_**  
  
 _‘Shipment?’_ There was an arms deal going on? I had never encountered anything like that in the two years I had started in earnest as a vigilante. How the hell could anyone even pull something like that off? Japan had some of the strictest gun control laws in the world, so strong that even yakuza were afraid to use them due to the penalties involved. So who the hell would be bold enough to bring a shipment of guns to Tokyo?  
  
I looked back down to the school below, indecision gripping me. I could just go down there and get what I needed, leaving Kamoshida for another day. No, that wasn’t acceptable. He had his sights set on one of my classmates already, and was likely abusing others. Leaving it alone was reprehensible, not even worth considering.  
  
 ** _“Up to your standards? The fuck’s that supposed to mean?”_**  
  
But if I let this go, there would be weapons on the streets of Tokyo that they weren’t prepared for. Weapons that could get hundreds of people killed. And there was the matter of just who was bringing in these weapons to begin with.

My breath hitched in my throat, and a well of shame I hadn’t felt in a long time burst from my stomach as I turned away from the school and ran towards the previous sound of gunfire. _‘I’m sorry, Takamaki.'_ I prayed that I made the right choice as I rushed to my new destination, my feet carving out pieces of concrete as I launched myself from the building and flung myself across the skyline of Tokyo. Black-grey clouds had taken over the once starry sky, and droplets of rain began to pelt my skin. The needling specks felt like a painful reminder of the risk I was taking.  
  
 _‘If anything happens, I swear, I’ll make Kamoshida_ pay _.’_ It wouldn’t be enough to atone for my negligence, but it would be a start. **  
**

* * *

**4/11 Late Evening**

* * *

The destination was a dilapidated warehouse, clearly having seen better days. Faded areas where signs used to be were disguiseby the downpour, and windows had been covered with plywood. However, with my senses, I could tell that the plywood was a new addition due to the lack of dirt and dust polluting them, with new pieces of sound dampening panels attached on the other side. They were strategically placed around the walls of the place, enough to stop a loud enough noise, like a gunshot, from anyone outside. Given there were no police cruisers on their way, it evidently worked well enough.  
  
Shame for them that they weren’t designed for _me._  
  
 ** _Twelve people, nine stationed throughout the ground floor, three around a truck and crates. Metal and gunpowder inside them. The guns. Ten crates of guns._**  
  
My spine froze at feeling the number of firearms that had been imported illegally to my home. The question of who had enough resources and authority to make something like this happen nearly overtook my thoughts, but I put it aside for now. I’d be able to ask one of these fine gentlemen anyways.  
  
Jumping from the roof I was on to the warehouse’s, I walked to the roof access door put a finger on the top hinge, attaching myself to it and pulling up, taking the bolt out. Putting my left hand against the door to hold it, I did the same for the other two and set the door aside, gaining access to the building. I jumped up and stuck myself to the roof, as the second level walkway to the door was made of metal, and given the rust that was on it, I would attract attention immediately. It only took me a few strides to have the group come into view, and I stopped to consider my plan of attack.  
  
The nine people I sensed earlier was divided up between a group of three and six, the former being closer to the cargo and shipping truck with the latter group being slightly spread out among the area, not far enough to be slacking off, but enough to surround the other three if needed. The group of six was all garbed in a similar manner, with thick black motorcycle jackets with armored sections, clearly designed to take some blows if a fight arose, as well as matching black armored gloves. In comparison, the three others wore much more casual clothes, and were clearly uncomfortable with the subtle display in spite of their attempts to hide it. I sensed that all of them were carrying some form of knife or blunt weapon, each of them concealed in pockets.  
  
The last three were over an open crate, and while I didn’t recognize the model of assault rifle that was in them, the fact that they were assault rifles was enough to make my stomach twist in shock. Unlike the previous groups, there was only one person in black with two others dressed in the simpler clothes.  
  
“So, I take it the rest of the order matches these?” The one in black spoke up, grabbing a rifle by the barrel and then brandishing it. From the way he was carrying himself, it looked like he knew what he was doing.  
  
“Not exactly.” One of the dealers spoke up, and immediately the rest of the room went silent. The group of six tensed up, hands moving into pockets and grabbing knives and batons. For his part, the one talking to the dealers merely looked the man in the eye.  
  
“Explain.” The dealer let out a scoff.  
  
“Sure thing, boss.” At the lack of a reaction, the dealer continued. “We could only get you three boxes of M4’s. Too large a shipment of those looks suspicious. Might be a common gun, but shipping to a place like Japan is a bitch n’ a half.”  
“I thought you were good at meeting expectations.”  
  
“Asshole, I'm better at meeting expectations than your wife on your anniversary.” Charming. Black leather shared my reaction, and turned the safety of the rifle off. I got ready to jump in, priming my web shooter to snatch the gun from him, but the dealer put his hands up in surrender. “Relax. We replaced what we couldn’t get with P90’s and AK’s. That good enough?” A terse silence came over the room, and was ended when I heard the click of the safety being put back on.  
  
“Yes. Get the cash.” He put the gun away in the crate, and that’s when I decided that I was done waiting. I shot an arm out and fired a ball of web on the open crate, trapping the guns and the man there. The room burst in confusion, and the moment they looked up I jumped at an angle as I shot a line out to the ceiling, swinging into the fray and kicking the two dealers into each other, the two tumbling into the back of the open back of the truck. I shot out a quick batch of webs to keep them from moving and escaping with the rest of the shipment.  
  
 ** _Three in front, the rest behind. The latter prepping their weapons, former beginning to charge._**  
  
One of the last dealers made a mad charge at me, throwing a wild clothesline. I brought my elbow up, his wrist breaking against it and grabbed him by the throat – **_man behind, charging with baton_** \- I grabbed his arm and bowled backwards with my foot propped against the man’s stomach, and when I rolled to my shoulders I kicked out, the two harshly colliding. I sensed the last two dealers coming upon me, so I propped my body up with my hands. Moving along the floor, I swept my right leg to the first man’s knee and he came tumbling down like a bag of cement, a loud snap reverberating throughout the building. I ignored his scream as pushed off the ground, spinning in the air as I brought my heel down on the last dealer, his head hitting the ground and going limp into unconsciousness.  
  
I grabbed the edge of the truck’s trailer and surveyed the rest of the criminals. Most were still fumbling for their knives and batons, but two of them had begun to come forward. Before they came close enough, I wrenched my hands into the metal and pulled, a large chunk coming with me. I jumped back down to the ground, ripping the metal off the body and kicking it towards the two of them. They fell to the ground, and I was quick to follow up with my webs to keep them that way.  
  
There were only five of them left, the two I threw into each other getting back up, and they were all rooted to their spots, one of them still having a hand in his pocket, barely even gripping the knife in it. Their eyes were wide in shock and fear. I stayed where I was for a moment, letting them stew in their indecision for a few seconds longer before I started walking towards them. They managed to move in step with me, slowly forming a circle. Three of them had knives, while only one of them had a baton. The dealer I threw looked around, cradling his broken wrist against his chest, and eventually found a loose set of chains that he grabbed. Even with it, he didn’t look confident.  
  
 **“I’ll give you one last chance.”** My electronic voice made a couple of them flinch, but no one made a move to attack. **“I just took down seven of your men. What do you think you all can accomplish?”** The moment the words left my mouth, I saw the fight leave their eyes. Even outnumbering me five to one, seeing one person take down several people in barely just as many seconds made one’s self-preservation instincts kick in.  
  
“Fuck you, prick!” At least, that was the theory. The dealer with the broken wrist sprung behind me, bringing his chain arm up. Unfortunately for him, it was evident his left hand wasn’t his dominant one, as the draw was awkward and caused the chain to whip around and hit the back of his head. I took advantage of the mistake and twisted around, bringing my leg up in a roundhouse kick, hitting the underside of his chin and sending him spinning into the air. He fell on a stack of pallets that broke underneath him, the snapping wood leaving a deafening reverb throughout the building. I brought my leg back down slowly, turning my head to glower at the last men standing. They shifted uncomfortably, their teeth grinding in indecision, before whatever plans of action they had died under the weight of my stare. They dropped their weapons and put their hands behind their head, the knives and baton hitting the floor in quiet clinks sounding perfectly final.  
  
 **“Smart.”** I snapped my hands up and fired webs at them, the impact sticking them to whatever surface they were shot onto. I made sure to cover up their mouths as well, and added more layers to everyone else before turning to the man I trapped onto the open crate of guns. His brow was covered in sweat, and his eyes were trembling in fear despite his attempts to hide it.  
  
“I’m not fucking talking, freak.” I walked up to him, making a point to invade his personal space and leaving my face inches from his, the eyes of my mask narrowing into sharp lines. His heart was beating so fast that I was worried it would eventually give out, but he managed to steel himself, closing his mouth into a thin line.  
  
 **“I don’t need you to.”** I snaked my hand into his pockets, procuring his phone. He began to protest, but I brought a hand up to cover his mouth and squeezed. Whatever he was about to say stopped in its tracks under the creaking bones of his jaw. It was a flip phone, obviously a burner of some kind, but I ignored that for now and dialed a number, bringing it to my ear. It rang for a few moments before the other end picked up.  
  
“Hello, Tokyo Metropolitan Police, what’s the emergency?” A feminine voice answered, slightly more enthused than the last operator I contacted.  
  
 **“There’s a gun deal going on in Machida prefecture at an abandoned warehouse on Yumi Street, address 1015. All the perpetrators have been pacified.”** There was silence on the other end for a few seconds, and I was worried that she didn’t understand me due to my warbled voice.  
  
“.... Is this some kind of joke?” My eyes narrowed at the accusation, so I let go of the dealer's mouth and walked towards another crate and wretched it open, balancing the phone of the edge and picked up a rifle. I put my left ear against my shoulder and covered my right one with my hand, then unloaded the entire rifle into the ceiling. Despite my attempts, my ears were still left ringing. I shook my head to stave it off, and picked the phone back up, thankful to not here the dial tone.  
  
 **“You tell me.”**  
  
“.... I’ll send police right away.” They hung up after that. I closed the phone then walked back to the stunned man, noticing that the webs keeping him trapped were starting to dissolve. I fixed that with another batch, reloading with a fresh pair of cartridges and pocketing the empty ones in my belt. I stared at the dealer for a few moments, his mouth hanging in shock. I put his phone back in his pocket, not needing it anymore. There wasn’t likely to be any useful information on it due to being a simple burner, and I didn’t have any of the equipment needed in order to hack into it. Hopefully the police would find something on it.  
  
I looked back down to the open crate, my silver-grey webs contrasting against the gun-black metal of the many assault rifles. My eyes narrowed, the whirring of my mask’s mechanisms being the only sound I could here in the warehouse outside of the breathing of the incapacitated dealers and the heavy downpour of the rain outside. I looked back up, and my glare was enough to make the man flinch.  
  
 **“Why are you bringing guns into Tokyo?”** My voice came out as a low growl due to the warping effect of my synthesizer, and it had the desired effect. The man quailed at hearing it, trying to shrink into himself.

  
“Fuck off.” I snapped a hand to his throat, and he immediately started choking for air. I was in no mood to be played around with, especially with what I had to leave in order to deal with this.  
  
 **“Wrong answer.”** I edged him closer to my face, to the point I could see the thin white eyes of my mask reflected in his own brown eyes. **“Give me the right one, or you’ll be living off taxpayer money in about five seconds.”** His pupils shrunk, and his entire body began to shake uncontrollably. It felt like my chest shrunk in on itself at what I was doing, but I stymied any apprehension I might have felt and focused on the task at hand. I may have stopped one gun deal, but I doubted that the person who ordered them would drop it all of a sudden, and I needed to gain something from this that would last in order to justify my coming here.  
  
“Al-alright.” He croaked out, and I could feel the other men shift in shock at what he said. “They’re for-”  
  
 ** _Metal clicking into place, chemicals pouring into slots, mechanisms firing. Sharp object cutting through the air, coming towards-_**  
  
My eyes widened, and my free hand shot out like a bullet to the back of the man's head. It caught something thin but sharp, and it took me a moment to recognize that it was a needle. I looked up to where the door to the roof would be, and I caught the briefest glimpse of what looked like a metal tail sliding back out the door. I didn’t even think when I shot two lines of web out and yanked myself towards it, grabbing the edge of the frame and shooting myself out to the frigid rain. It took only a moment for my eyes to adjust, and when they did I caught only another brief view of the one who almost killed the dealer. The only thing I saw was a dark silver, tail like limb snaking down the edge of the warehouse.  
  
I made a move to dive down it, but I heard the sound of another thing being shot out from it. I was near the edge when I managed to catch myself and throw my body back to the roof, the object breaking through the concrete easily. But before I could recover, I heard a clicking noise coming from the cylindrical projectile, and I had just enough time to cover my ears before my entire world went white and it felt like my ears were at the epicenter of a nuclear bomb going off.  
  
I recognized I was screaming even though I couldn’t hear my own voice, and I felt my back grinding against the coarse material of the roof. Every muscle in my body was spasming from the shock of the flashbang, and it felt like my eyes had been gouged out with a hot poker.  
  
It took until my throat was raw and my back was covered in concrete dust and rocks that I regained any control of my senses, and I tried to get up, only for my shaking legs to give out. I scuffed my chin on the ground, but it honestly felt pleasant compared to the bombardment I just went through. I focused on it, using the throbbing pain from it to steady the rest of my senses, and I eventually managed to stand, albeit hunched over and barely cognizant of my surroundings. The rain acted as a welcome blanket, helping me to reorient myself and replacing the earlier pain with the comfort of a cold breeze.  
  
 ** _Water shorting out neon signs, electricity thrumming in lamp posts, tires screeching, footsteps approaching-_** Wait, what?  
  
I was brought out of my slight reprieve by the sound of hammers being pulled back on their revolvers, and my eyes were stabbed by the blinding rays of flashlights. I brought an arm up to block it, and I heard a dull sound come from behind the light. My ears were still plugged, but I could make out what was being shouted to me.  
  
Freeze.  
  
I crouched down and sprung from the roof, my legs protesting the sudden movement. I ignored any pain I felt and let my senses wash out over the area, using them to map out the area. I shot a hand out and met purchase on the edge of another rooftop, bringing my hands together than pushing outwards, leaving small craters of impact on it. The wind buffeted past me, the rain feeling like small bullets pelting against my body. It helped to emphasize any building that was in place, and I shot out a web and began a mad dash towards Shibuya.  
  
The entire way over, the back of my mind couldn’t help but remind me of what I put aside in order to deal with this. About how I tried to get some information to make it worthwhile. And here I was, running away, with _nothing to show for it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The procrastinating prick returns. I do have a slightly better reason this time though, being that I'm working on several different stories at once. Cause that's smart, right?
> 
> Anyway, our first meeting with Makoto! What I hope I did with her perspective is to get across how different she is from Kurokuya. As you can all probably tell, he's rather clinical and detached in his own POV, whereas with Makoto here there's a more clear emotional element to her narration, showing her age as a teenager despite her best attempts to act older. I also wanted to further emphasize Kurokuya's detachment from his peers as well as his... let's say determined compulsion of righting wrongs he believes he's made.


End file.
